UNIVERSITY  OF  N.C.  AT  CHAPEL  HILL 


S' 


iODIES 
FOR  OLD 

The  Strange   Experiments  of 

Dr.  Lerne 

by 


^) 


To  the  once  beautiful  Chateau  Fonval, 
hidden  away  in  a  lonely,  wooded  section  of  the 
Ardennes— now  the  retreat  of  the  famous 
surgeon-scientist,  Dr.  Lerne— comes  Nicolas 
\'crmont,  the  great  man's  nephew.  From  the 
moment  he  is  usJiered  into  the  secret  Ufe  of 
Konval,  a  series  of  truly  startling  incidents 
occur. 

Associated  with  Dr.  Lerne  are  two  famous 
German  scientists.  The  world  has  whispered 
about  the  mysterious  experiments  going  on 
behind  Fonval's  locked  and  guarded  gates,  so, 
though  prepared  to  be  surprised,  young 
.Xicolas  is  left  aghast  at  the  horrors  and  won- 
ders which,  despite  his  uncle's  caution,  are 
biot  to  be  concealed. 

From  these  marvels,  this  profanation  of  Na- 
ure,    he    turns   away    with   his   blood   cold    to 
nd    a  -  beautiful    girl    held    prisoner    in     the 
:hateau.     She  warns  him  that  other  men  have 
isappeared  mysteriously  from  Fonval,  that  if 
^     e   stays,    he    will   end    up   in    the   laboratory. 
The   net   closes   about   him,   but   kis   aiTection 
for   the  girl   holds   him.     And.  his    fate?      For 
[hcer  thrill  nothing   to  equal  it  has  happened 
~   fiction  since  Poe. 

^  Mystery  lurks  at  every  turn ;  baffling  situa- 
tions confront  the  reader  continually;  and  of. 
only  less  interest  is  the  love  story  of  the 
strange  girl  who  through  her  sex  appeal  exerts 
-  xh  a  powerful  influence  over  the  inhabitants 
•''  Fonval.  And  Dr.  Lemes  goal—?  It  stag 
.,ris  belief,  and  by  comparison  the  Steimacl 
i-itnd  transference  seem  trivial. 


-v  foi 

m 


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NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 


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NEW   BODIES 

FOR   OLD      ^il^^^ 


A/y 


BY 


MAURICE  RENARD 


({'  V:!  ft^-WlfJj    5/  f^rKhc^   I 


NEW  YORK 
THE  MACAULAY  COMPANY 


Copyright,  1923 
By  MAURICE  RENARD 


PRINTED   IN   THE   UNITED  STATES  OF  AMERICA 


DEDICATION 


To  H.  G.  Wells: 

I  beg  you,  Sir,  to  accept  this  book. 

Of  all  the  pleasures  that  its  writing  gave  me, 
that  of  dedicating  it  to  you  is  assuredly  not  the 
least. 

I  conceived  it  under  the  inspiration  of  ideas 
that  you  cherish,  and  I  could  have  wished  that  it 
had  come  nearer  to  your  own  works  than  it  does, 
not  in  merit — that  would  be  an  absurd  pretension 
— but,  at  any  rate,  in  that  pleasant  quality  shown 
in  all  your  books,  which  allows  the  chastest  minds, 
as  well  as  those  that  exact  the  greatest  realism,  to 
have  communion  with  your  genius — a  communion 
which  the  ablest  people  of  our  time  can  acknowl- 
edge without  feeling  its  charm  lessened  by  such 
considerations. 

But  when  Fortune  for  good  or  ill  allowed  me 
to  discover  the  subject  of  this  allegorical  novel,  I 
felt  bound  not  to  set  it  aside  because  of  a  few 
audacities  which  a  faithful  rendering  involved  and 
which  an  arrest  of  development  alone — that  is,  a 
crime  against  the  literary  conscience — could  avoid. 


vi  DEDICATION 

You  now  know — you  could  have  guessed  as 
much — what  I  should  like  people  to  think  of  my 
work,  If  by  chance  any  one  did  it  the  unexpected 
honor  of  thinking  about  it  at  all.     Far  from  de- 

f  siring  to  arouse  the  creature  of  instinct  in  my 
reader  and  amuse  him  with  scandalous  descrip- 
tions, my  work  is  addressed  to  the  philosopher 
anxious  for  Truth  amid  the  marvels  of  Fiction  and 
for  Orderliness  amid  the  tumult  of  imaginary 
Adventures. 

L      That,  Sir,  is  why  I  beg  you  to  accept  it. 

M.  R. 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 


Introduction 9 

CHAPTER 

I     Nocturne i6 

II    Among  the  Sphinxes 38 

III  The  Conservatory 65 

IV  Hot  and  Cold 84 

V    'The  Madman" loi 

VI     Nell — the  St.  Bernard 117 

VII  Thus  Spake  Mlle.  Bourdichet     .     .  136 

VIII    Rashness 154 

IX    The  Ambush 171 

X  The  Circeean  Operation     .     .     .     .  192 

XI     In  the  Paddock 217 

XII  Lerne  Changes  His  Method  of  Attack  235 

XIII  Experiments!    Hallucinations!     .     .  253 

XIV  Death  and  the  Mask 262 

XV    The  New  Beast 279 

XVI  The  Wizard  Finally  Dies   ....  300 


NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 


NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 


INTRODUCTION 

It  all  happened  on  a  certain  winter  evening 
more  than  a  year  ago,  after  the  last  men's  dinner- 
party I  gave  to  my  friends  in  the  little  house 
which  I  had  taken  furnished  in  the  Avenue  Victor 
Hugo. 

As  my  projected  move  was  nothing  more  than 
the  gratification  of  my  vagrant  fancy,  we  had  cele- 
brated my  house-MWwarming  as  joyfully  as  we  had 
celebrated  the  warming  of  yore,  and  the  time  for 
liqueurs  having  come  (and  also  the  time  for  jokes) 
each  of  us  did  his  best  to  shine — more  especially 
of  course,  that  naughty  fellow  Gilbert,  Marlotte, 
our  paradoxical  friend,  the  "Triboulet"  of  our 
band,  and  Cardaillac,  our  licensed  wizard. 

I  cannot  remember  now  exactly  how  it  came 
about,  but  after  an  hour  spent  in  the  smoking- 
room,  somebody  switched  off  the  electric  light,  and 
urged  us  to  have  some  table-turning;  so  we 
grouped  ourselves  in  the  darkness  round  a  little 
table.     This  "somebody"    (please  observe)    was 

9 


10  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD  . 

not  Cardalllac;  but  perhaps  he  was  In  league  with 
Cardaillac — if  indeed  Cardaillac  was  the  guilty 
party. 

We  were  exactly  eight  men  in  all,  eight  skeptics 
versus  a  little  insignificant  table  which  had  only 
one  stem  divided  off  at  the  end  into  three  legs,  and 
whose  round  top  bent  under  our  sixteen  hands 
placed  on  it  in  accordance  with  occult  rites ! 

It  was  Marlotte  who  instructed  us  in  these  rites. 
He  had  at  one  time  been  an  anxious  inquirer  about 
witchcraft,  and  familiar  with  table-turning,  though 
merely  as  an  outsider,  and  as  he  was  our  custom- 
ary buffoon,  when  we  saw  him  assume  the  direc- 
tion of  the  seance,  every  one  just  let  himself  go  in 
anticipation  of  some  excellent  clowning. 

Cardaillac  found  himself  my  right-hand  neigh- 
bor. I  heard  him  stifle  a  laugh  in  his  throat  and 
cough.     Then  the  table  began  to  turn. 

Gilbert  questioned  it,  and  to  his  obvious  stupe- 
faction it  replied  by  dry  cracklings  like  those  made 
by  creaking  woodwork,  and  corresponding  to  the 
esoteric  alphabet. 

Marlotte  translated  in  a  quavering  voice. 

Then  everybody  wanted  to  question  the  table ; 
and  in  its  replies  it  gave  proof  of  great  sagacity. 
The  audience  became  serious;  one  did  not  know 
what  to  think.  Queries  leapt  to  our  lips,  and  the 
replies  were  rapped  out  from  the  foot  of  the  table, 
near  me — as  I  fancied — and  towards  my  right. 


INTRODUCTION  1 1 

"Who  will  live  in  this  house  in  a  year's  time?" 
asked  in  his  turn  he  who  had  proposed  the  spirit- 
ualistic amusement. 

"Oh,  if  you  question  it  about  the  future,"  said 
Marlotte,  "you  will  only  get  back  thumping  lies, 
or  else  it  will  hold  its  tongue." 

"Oh,  shut  up,"  interposed  Cardaillac.  The 
question  was  repeated — "Who  will  live  in  this 
house  in  a  year's  time?" 

"Nobody,"  said  the  interpreter. 

"And  in  two  years'  time?" 

"Nicolas  Vermont." 

All  of  us  heard  this  name  for  the  first  time. 

"What  will  he  be  doing  at  this  very  hour  on  the 
anniversary  of  to-day?  Tell  us  what  he  is  doing 
— speak." 

"He  is  beginning  ...  to  write  here  .  .  .  his 
adventures." 

"Can  you  read  what  he  writes?" 

"Yes  .   .   .   and  also  what  he  will  write." 

"Tell  us  the  beginning,  just  the  beginning." 

"Am  tired — alphabet  too  tedious — Give  type- 
writer .   .   .  will  inspire  typist." 

A  murmur  went  round  in  the  darkness.  I  rose 
and  went  to  fetch  my  typewriter,  and  it  was  placed 
upon  the  table. 

"It's  a  'Watson'  "  said  the  table.  "I  won't 
have  it.  Am  a  French  table.  Want  a  French 
machine  .  .  .  want  a  'Durand.'  " 


12  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

"  'A  Durand?'  "  said  my  neighbor  on  the  left, 
In  a  disillusioned  tone.  "Does  that  brand  exist? 
I  don't  know  it." 

"Nor  I." 

"Nor  I." 

"Nor  I." 

We  were  much  vexed  at  this  untoward  circum- 
stance, when  the  voice  of  Cardaillac  said  slowly: 

"I  use  nothing  but  a  'Durand,'  would  you  like 
me  to  fetch  it  ?" 

"Can  you  type  without  seeing?" 

"I  shall  be  back  in  a  quarter  of  an  hour,"  said 
he — and  he  went  out  without  answering. 

"Oh,  if  Cardaillac  is  going  to  take  it  up,"  said 
one  of  the  guests,  "we  shall  have  a  merry  time." 

However,  when  the  lights  were  turned  up,  the 
faces  seemed  sterner  than  one  would  have  ex- 
pected.    Marlotte  was  quite  pale. 

Cardaillac  came  back  in  a  very  short  time — an 
astonishingly  short  time,  one  might  have  said. 
He  sat  down  In  front  of  the  table  facing  his 
"Durand"  machine,  and  darkness  was  once  more 
established.  Suddenly  the  table  declared:  "No 
need  of  others.  .  .  .  Put  your  feet  on  mine 
.   .   .  type." 

One  heard  the  tapping  of  the  fingers  on  the 
keys. 

"It's    extraordinary  I"    exclaimed    the    typist- 


INTRODUCTION  13 

medium,    "It's    extraordinary  I     My    hands    are 
writing  of  their  own  accord." 

"What  bosh!"  whispered  Marlotte. 

"I  swear  they  are,  I  swear  it,"  said  Cardaillac. 

We  remained  a  long  time  listening  to  the  tap- 
ping of  the  keys  which  was  every  now  and  then 
broken  by  the  ringing  of  the  bell  at  the  end  of  the 
line  and  the  rasping  of  the  carriage.  Every  five 
minutes  a  sheet  was  handed  to  us.  We  decided 
to  retire  to  the  drawing-room  and  to  read  them 
aloud  as  Gilbert,  getting  them  from  Cardaillac, 
handed  them  to  us. 

Page  79  was  deciphered  in  the  morning  light 
and  the  machine  stopped. 

But  what  it  had  typed  seemed  to  us  exciting 
enough  to  make  us  beg  Cardaillac  to  be  good 
enough  to  give  us  the  sequel. 

He  did  so.  And  when  he  had  passed  many 
nights  seated  at  the  little  table  with  his  typing 
keyboard,  we  had  the  complete  story  of  M.  Ver- 
mont's adventures. 

The  reader  shall  now  be  told  them. 

They  are  strange  and  scandalous;  their  future 
scribe  is  bound  not  to  think  of  printing  them. 
He  ivill  burn  them  as  soon  as  they  are  finished;  so 
that,  had  it  not  been  for  the  complaisance  of  the 
little  table,  no  one  would  ever  have  turned  the 
leaves.     That  is  why  I,  convinced  of  their  au- 


14  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

thenticlty,    consider   It  piquant   to   publish   them 
beforehand. 

For  I  hold  them  to  be  "veridical," — as  the  elect 
call  it — although  they  have  some  of  the  character- 
istics of  wild  caricature,  and  rather  resemble  an 
art-student's  funny  sketch  penciled  by  way  of  com- 
mentary on  the  margin  of  an  engraving  represent- 
ing Science  herself. 

Are  they  possibly  apocryphal?  Well,  fables 
are  reputed  to  be  more  seductive  than  History, 
and  Cardaillac's  will  not  seem  inferior  to  many 
another  one. 

My  hope,  however,  is  that  "Dr.  Lerne"  is  the 
truthful  account  of  real  happenings,  for  in  that 
case,  since  the  little  table  uttered  a  prophecy,  the 
tribulations  of  the  hero  have  not  yet  begun,  and 
they  will  be  running  their  course  at  the  very  time 
that  this  book  is  divulging  them — a  very  inter- 
esting circumstance  indeed. 
f  At  any  rate  I  shall  certainly  know  In  two  years' 
time  if  M.  Nicolas  Vermont  lives  in  the  little 
house  in  the  Avenue  Victor  Hugo.  Something 
assures  me  of  it  in  advance — for  how  can  one  ac- 
cept the  idea  of  Cardaillac — a  serious-minded  and 
intelligent  fellow — squandering  so  many  hours 
in  composing  such  a  fable?  That  is  my  principal 
argument  in  favor  of  its  truthfulness. 

However,  if  any  conscientious  reader  desires 
to  find  reasons  for  the  faith  that  is  In  him,  let 


INTRODUCTION  15 

him  betake  himself  to  Grey-l  'Abbaye.  There  he 
will  be  informed  about  the  existence  of  Professor 
Lerne  and  his  habits.  For  my  part  I  have  not 
got  the  leisure  for  that,  but  I  entreat  any  one  who 
may  undertake  the  search  to  let  me  know  the 
truth,  being  myself  very  desirous  of  getting  to  the 
bottom  of  the  question  whether  the  following  tale 
is  a  mystification  of  Cardaillac's,  or  was  really 
typed  out  by  a  clairvoyant  table. 


CHAPTER  I 

NOCTURNE 

The  first  Sunday  in  June  was  drawing  to  a 
close.  The  shadow  of  the  motor-car  was  fleeting 
on  ahead  of  me  and  getting  longer  every  moment. 

Ever  since  the  morning,  people  had  been  look- 
ing at  me  with  anxious  faces  as  I  passed,  just  as 
one  looks  at  a  scene  in  a  melodrama.  With  my 
leather  helmet  which  gave  me  the  look  of  a  bald 
skull,  my  glasses  like  port-holes,  or  the  eye-sockets 
of  a  skeleton,  and  my  body  clothed  in  tanned 
skin,  I  must  have  seemed  to  them  some  queer  seal 
from  the  nether  regions,  or  one  of  St.  Anthony's 
demons,  fleeing  from  the  sunlight  towards  the 
night.  In  order  to  enter  therein. 

And  to  tell  the  truth,  I  had  almost  a  soul  like 
that  of  one  of  the  Lost;  for  such  is  the  soul  of  a 
solitary  traveler  who  has  been  for  seven  hours  at 
a  stretch  on  a  racing-car.  His  spirit  has  some- 
thing like  a  nightmare  In  It;  In  place  of  thought, 
an  obsession  is  settled  there.  Mine  was  a  little 
peremptory  phrase — "Come  alone,  and  give  no- 
tice"— which,  like  a  tenacious  goblin,  worried  my 

16 


NOCTURNE  17 

lonely  mind,  overstrained  as  it  was  with  joltings 
and  speed. 

And  yet  this  strange  injunction  "come  alone 
and  give  notice"  doubly  underlined  by  my  Uncle 
Lerne  in  his  letter,  had  not  at  first  struck  me  ex- 
cessively. But  now  that  I  was  obeying  it — being 
alone  and  having  given  notice — and  rolling  along 
towards  the  Castle  of  Fonval,  the  inexplicable 
command  insisted,  so  to  speak,  on  displaying  all 
its  strangeness.  My  eyes  began  to  see  the  fateful 
expression  everywhere,  and  my  ears  made  it  sound 
in  every  noise  in  spite  of  my  efforts  to  drive  away 
the  fixed  idea.  If  I  wanted  to  know  the  name  of 
a  village,  the  sign-post  announced  "Come  alone"; 
"Give  notice"  followed  in  the  wake  of  a  bird's 
flight,  and  the  engine,  unresting  and  exasperating, 
repeated  thousands  and  thousands  of  times: 
"Come  alone,  come  alone,  come  alone,  give  notice, 
give  notice,  give  notice."  Then  I  began  to  ask 
myself  the  wherefore  of  this  wish  of  my  uncle, 
and  not  being  able  to  find  the  reason,  I  ardently 
longed  for  the  arrival  which  should  solve  the 
mystery,  less  curious  in  reality  about  the  doubtless 
commonplace  answer,  than  exasperated  by  so 
despotic  a  question. 

Fortunately  I  was  drawing  near,  and  the  coun- 
try growing  more  and  more  familiar  spoke  so 
clearly  of  the  old  days,  that  the  haunting  question 
relaxed   its    insistence.     The    town    of    Nanthel, 


1 8  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD    . 

populous  and  busy,  detained  me,  but  on  coming 
out  of  the  suburbs  I  at  last  perceived,  like  a  vague 
and  very  distant  cloud,  the  heights  of  the  Ardennes 
Mountains. 

Evening  draws  on.  Desiring  to  reach  the  goal 
before  night  I  open  out  to  the  full.  The  car 
hums,  and  under  it  the  road  is  engulfed  in  a 
whirl;  it  seems  to  enter  the  car  to  be  rolled  up  in 
it,  as  the  yards  of  ribbon  roll  themselves  up  on  a 
reel.  Speed  makes  its  hurricane  wind  whistle  in 
my  ears ;  a  swarm  of  mosquitoes  riddle  my  face  like 
small  shot,  and  all  sorts  of  little  creatures  patter 
on  my  goggles. 

Now  the  sun  is  on  my  right ;  it  is  on  the  horizon ; 
the  acclivities  and  declivities  of  the  road,  raising 
me  up  and  sinking  me  down  very  quickly,  make  the 
sun  rise  and  set  for  me  several  times  in  succes- 
sion. It  disappears.  I  dash  through  the  dusk  as 
hard  as  my  brave  engine  can  go — and  I  fancy  that 
the  234  XY  has  never  been  excelled.  This  makes 
the  Ardennes  about  half  an  hour  away.  The 
cloudy  offing  is  already  putting  on  a  green  tinge,  a 
forest  color,  and  my  heart  has  leapt  within  me. 
Fifteen  years  I  I  have  not  seen  those  dear  great 
woods  for  fifteen  years — they  were  my  old  holiday 
friends. 

For  it  is  there,  it  is  in  their  shadow  that  the 
chateau  hides  in  the  depths  of  an  enormous  hol- 
low. ...  I  remember  that  hollow  very  distinctly 


NOCTURNE  19 

and  I  can  already  distinguish  its  whereabouts — a 
dark  stain  indicates  it.  Indeed  it  is  the  most 
extraordinary  ravine.  My  late  aunt,  Lidivine 
Lerne,  who  was  fond  of  legends,  would  have  it 
that  Satan,  furious  at  some  disappointment,  had 
scooped  it  out  with  a  single  blow  of  his  gigantic 
hoof.  This  origin  is  disputed.  In  any  case  the 
metaphor  gives  a  vivid  picture  of  the  place,  an 
amphitheater  with  precipitous  walls  of  rock,  with 
no  other  outlet  than  a  large  defile  opening  on  the 
fields.  The  plain  in  other  words  penetrates  into 
the  mountain  like  a  gulf  of  the  sea ;  it  there  forms 
a  blind-alley,  the  perpendicular  walls  of  which  rise 
as  It  spreads,  and  whose  end  is  rounded  off  In  a 
wide  sweep.  The  result  is  that  one  gets  to  Fonval 
without  the  least  climb,  although  it  is  right  in  the 
bosom  of  the  mountain.  The  park  is  the  inner 
part  of  the  circle,  and  the  cliff  serves  as  a  natural 
wall,  except  in  the  direction  of  the  defile.  This 
latter  is  separated  from  the  domain  by  a  wall  into 
which  a  gateway  has  been  let.  A  long  avenue 
leads  up  to  it,  straight,  and  lined  with  lime  trees. 
In  a  few  minutes  I  shall  be  in  it  .  .  .  and  soon 
after  I  shall  know  why  nobody  must  follow  me  to 
Fonval — "come  alone  and  give  notice" — why 
these  orders? 

Patience.  The  mass  of  the  Ardennes  cleaves 
itself  Into  clumps.  At  the  rate  I  am  going,  each 
clump    seems    in    motion;    gliding    rapidly;    the 


20  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD   . 

crests  pass  one  behind  the  other,  draw  near  or 
draw  off,  seem  lower  and  then  rise  again  with  the 
majesty  of  waves,  and  the  spectacle  is  incessantly 
varying  like  that  of  a  titanic  sea. 

A  turn  in  the  road  unmasks  a  hamlet,  I  know  It 
well.  In  the  old  days,  every  year,  in  the  month  of 
August,  It  was  before  that  station  that  my  uncle's 
carriage,  with  Biribi  in  the  shafts,  awaited  m.y 
mother  and  me.  We  used  to  go  there  for  the 
holidays.  All  hail  Grey-l'Abbaye !  Fonval  is 
only  three  kilometers  distant  now.  I  could  go 
there  blindfold.  Here  Is  the  road  leading 
straight  to  the  place,  the  road  which  will  soon 
plunge  Into  the  woods  and  take  the  name  of 
Avenue. 

It  Is  almost  night.  A  peasant  shouts  some- 
thing at  me — insults  probably.  I'm  accustomed 
to  that.  My  hooter  replies  with  Its  threatening 
and  mournful  cry. 

The  forest!  Ah,  what  a  potent  perfume  it  has 
for  me — the  perfume  of  the  old-time  holidays ! 
Can  their  memory  bring  any  other  odor  than  that 
of  the  forest?  It  Is  an  exquisite  odor.  ...  I 
should  like  to  prolong  this  festival  of  scent. 

Slowing  down,  the  car  goes  on  gently.  Its 
sound  becomes  a  murmur.  Right  and  left  the 
cliff  walls  of  the  wide  gully  begin  to  rise.  Were 
there  more  light,  I  should  be  coming  Into  sight  of 


NOCTURNE  21 

Fonval  at  the  end  of  the  straight  line  of  the  ave- 
nue.    Hullo!     What's  up?  .   .  . 

I  had  almost  upset;  the  road  had  unexpectedly 
made  a  bend. 

I  slackened  off  still  more.  A  little  further  on 
another  bend — then  another.   .   .  . 

I  stopped. 

The  stars  one  by  one  were  beginning  to  shed 
their  luminous  dew.  In  the  light  of  the  Spring 
evening  I  could  see  above  me  the  high  mountain- 
crests,  and  the  direction  of  their  slopes  astonished 
me.  I  tried  to  back,  and  discovered  a  bifurcation 
which  I  had  not  noted  in  passing.  When  I  had 
taken  the  road  to  the  right,  it  offered  me  after 
several  windings  a  new  branching-off — like  a 
riddle;  and  then  I  guided  myself  in  the  Fonval  di- 
rection according  to  the  lie  of  the  cliffs  that  ran 
towards  the  chateau,  but  new  cross-roads  embar- 
rassed me.  What  had  become  of  the  straight 
avenue?  .   .   .  The  thing  utterly  puzzled  me. 

I  switched  on  the  head-lights.  For  a  long  time 
by  the  aid  of  their  light  I  wandered  among  the 
criss-crossing  of  the  alleys  without  being  able  to 
find  my  way,  so  many  various  offshoots  joined  the 
open  places,  and  so  balking  were  the  blind-alleys. 
It  seemed  to  me  I  had  already  passed  a  certain 
birch-tree.  Moreover  the  cliff  walls  always  re- 
mained at  the  same  height;  so  that  I  was  really 
turning  in  a  maze  and  making  no  advance.     Had 


22  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD     . 

the  peasant  of  Grey  tried  to  warn  me  ?  It  seemed 
probable. 

None  the  less,  trusting  to  chance,  and  piqued  by 
the  contretemps,  I  went  on  with  my  exploration. 
Three  times  the  same  crossing  showed  in  the  field 
of  light  of  my  lamps,  and  three  times  I  came  on 
that  same  birch-tree  by  different  roads. 

I  wanted  to  call  for  help.  Unfortunately  the 
hooter  went  wrong,  and  I  had  no  horn.  As  for 
my  voice,  the  distance  which  separated  me  from 
Grey  on  the  one  side  and  Fonval  on  the  other 
would  have  prevented  its  being  heard. 

Then  a  fear  assailed  me  ...  if  my  petrol  gave 
out!  ...  I  halted  in  the  middle  of  a  cross-road 
and  tested  the  level.  My  tank  was  almost  empty. 
What  would  be  the  good  in  exhausting  it  in  vain 
evolutions !  After  all,  it  seemed  to  me  an  easy 
thing  to  reach  the  chateau  on  foot  through  the 
woods.  ...  I  tried  it.  But  wire-fences  hidden 
in  the  bushes  blocked  the  way. 

Assuredly  this  labyrinth  was  not  a  practical 
joke  played  at  the  entrance  of  a  garden,  but  a  de- 
fensive contrivance  to  protect  the  approaches  of 
some  retreat. 

Much  out  of  countenance,  I  began  to  reflect. 

"Uncle  Lerne,  I  don't  understand  you  at  all," 
thought  I.  "You  received  the  notice  of  my  ar- 
rival this  morning,  and  here  am  I  detained  in  the 
most  abominable  of  landscape-gardens.  .  .  .  What 


NOCTURNE  23 

fantastic  idea  made  you  contrive  it?  Have  you 
changed  more  than  I  thought?  You  would  hardly 
have  dreamt  of  such  fortifications  fifteen  years 
ago." 

.  .  .  "Fifteen  years  ago,  the  night,  no  doubt, 
resembled  this  one.  The  heavens  were  alive  with 
the  same  glitter,  and  already  the  toads  were  en- 
livening the  silence  with  their  clear  short  cries,  so 
pure  and  sweet.  A  nightingale  was  warbling  its 
trills  as  that  one  now  is  doing.  Uncle,  that  eve- 
ning of  long  ago  was  delicious  too.  And  yet  my 
aunt  and  my  mother  had  just  died,  within  eight 
days  of  one  another,  and  the  sisters  having  dis- 
appeared, we  remained  face  to  face,  one  a  wid- 
ower, and  the  other  an  orphan  —  you,  uncle, 
and  I." 

And  the  man  of  those  far-off  days  stood  before 
my  mind's  eye  as  the  town  of  Nanthel  knew  him 
then,  the  surgeon  already  celebrated  at  thirty-five 
for  the  skill  of  his  hand  and  the  success  of  his 
bold  methods,  and  who  in  spite  of  his  fame,  re- 
mained faithful  to  his  native  town — Dr.  Frederic 
Lerne,  Professor  of  Clinical  Medicine  at  the 
"Ecole  de  Medecine,"  corresponding  member  of 
numerous  learned  societies,  decorated  with  many 
divers  orders,  and — to  omit  nothing — guardian  of 
his  nephew,  Nicolas  Vermont. 

This  new  father  whom  the  Law  assigned  me  I 
had  not  met  often,  for  he  took  no  holidays  and 


24  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD    . 

only  passed  his  summer  Sundays  at  Fonval.  And 
even  these  he  spent  In  work — ceaseless  and  secret 
work.  On  those  days  his  passion  for  horticulture, 
suppressed  all  the  week,  kept  him  shut  up  in  the 
little  hot-house  with  his  tulips  and  his  orchids. 

And  yet,  in  spite  of  the  rarity  of  our  meetings, 
I  knew  him  well  and  loved  him  dearly. 

He  was  a  sturdy  man,  calm  and  sober,  rather 
cold  perhaps,  but  so  kind.  In  my  irreverent  way 
I  called  his  shaven  face  an  "old  wife's  face,"  and 
my  jesting  was  quite  misplaced,  for  sometimes  he 
would  turn  it  into  an  antique  visage,  lofty  and 
grave,  and  sometimes  into  one  of  delicate  mockery 
("Regency"  style).  Among  our  modern  shave- 
lings my  uncle  was  of  the  few  whose  head  and 
face  by  their  nobility  prove  their  legitimate  de- 
scent from  an  ancestor  draped  In  a  toga,  and  a 
grandfather  clothed  in  satin,  and  would  allow 
their  scion  to  wear  the  costumes  of  his  ancestors 
without  putting  them  to  shame. 

For  the  moment  Lerne  appeared  to  me  decked 
out  in  a  black  overcoat  rather  badly  cut,  in  which 
I  had  seen  him  for  the  last  time — when  I  was 
setting  out  for  Spain.  Being  a  rich  man,  and 
wishing  me  to  be  one  too,  my  uncle  had  sent  me 
Into  the  cork  business  as  an  employee  of  the  firm 
Gomez  &  Co.  of  Badajoz. 

And  my  exile  had  lasted  fifteen  years,  during 
which  the  position  of  the  Professor  had  certainly 


NOCTURNE  25 

become  better,  to  judge  by  the  sensational  opera- 
tions he  had  performed,  the  fame  of  which  had 
reached  me  in  the  depths  of  Estremadura. 

As  for  me,  my  affairs  had  come  to  grief.  At 
the  end  of  fifteen  years,  despairing  of  ever  selling 
safety-belts  and  cork  on  my  own  account,  I  had 
just  returned  to  France  to  seek  another  trade, 
when  Fate  procured  me  that  of  an  independent 
man.  It  was  I  who  won  the  lucky  number  for  a 
million  francs,  the  donor  of  which  wished  to  re- 
main incognito. 

In  Paris  I  took  comfortable  rooms,  but  without 
luxury.  My  flat  was  convenient  and  unpreten- 
tious. I  had  the  bare  necessaries  plus  a  motor- 
car and  minus  a  family. 

But  before  founding  a  new  family,  it  seemed  to 
me  the  right  thing  to  renew  relations  with  the  old 
— that  is  to  say  with  Lerne,  and  I  wrote  to  him. 

Not  but  what  after  our  separation  a  regular 
correspondence  had  been  established  between  us. 
At  the  beginning  he  had  given  me  wise  advice  and 
had  shown  himself  pleasantly  paternal.  His  first 
letter  indeed  contained  the  announcement  of  a 
Will  in  my  favor  hidden  in  the  secret  drawer  of  a 
desk  at  Fonval. 

After  the  rendering  of  his  accounts  as  guardian 
our  relations  remained  as  before.  Then,  sud- 
denly, his  messages  became  different  in  character, 
and  grew  fewer  and  fewer,  their  tone  becoming 


26  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD  . 

that  of  boredom,  then  of  annoyance.  The  matter 
was  commonplace,  then  vulgar,  and  the  phrasing 
awkward;  the  very  writing  seemed  to  alter.  Each 
time  he  wrote,  these  things  became  more  marked, 
and  I  had  to  limit  myself  every  ist  of  January  to 
sending  my  best  wishes.  My  uncle  replied  with 
a  few  scribbled  words.  .  .  .  Wounded  in  the  only 
affection  I  possessed,  I  was  much  afflicted. 

What  had  happened? 

A  year  before  this  sudden  change — five  years 
before  my  return  to  Fonval  and  my  wanderings  in 
the  labyrinth— I  had  read  in  the  "Epoca"  : 

"We  have  received  the  news  from  Paris  that  Professor 
Lerne  is  saying  good-by  to  his  patients  in  order  to  devote 
himself  to  scientific  research  begun  in  the  hospital  of 
Nanthel.  With  this  aim  that  excellent  physician  is  retir-. 
ing  to  the  neighborhood  of  the  tov^^n  in  the  Ardennes,  to 
his  chateau  of  Fonval  M^hich  has  been  arranged  for  that 
purpose.  He  is  taking  with  him  among  others,  Dr.  Klotz 
of  Mannheim  and  the  three  assistants  of  the  Anatomisches 
Institut  founded  by  this  latter  at  22,  Friedrichstrasse, 
which  has  now  closed  its  doors — when  shall  we  have 
results?"'  '    ■ 

Lerne  had  confirmed  this  event  to  me  in  an 
enthusiastic  letter,  which,  however,  added  nothing 
to  the  bald  facts  in  the  paragraph.  And  it  was  a 
year  later  on,  I  say  again,  that  the  change  in  his 
nature  had  taken  place.  Had  twelve  months  of 
work  ended  in  failure?  Had  some  bitter  disap- 
pointment so  gravely  affected  the  Professor  that 


NOCTURNE  27 

he  should  treat  me  like  a  stranger  and  almost  as  if 
I  were  a  bore?  .   .   . 

In  defiance  of  his  hostility  I  wrote  respectfully 
and  with  the  utmost  possible  affection  from  Paris 
the  letter  in  which  I  told  him  of  my  good  fortune, 
and  I  asked  his  leave  to  pay  him  a  visit. 

Never  was  invitation  less  engaging  than  his. 
He  asked  me  to  give  him  warning  of  my  arrival 
so  that  he  might  order  a  carriage  to  go  and  fetch 
me  from  the  station.  "You  will  doubtless  not  re- 
main long  at  Fonval,"  he  added,  "for  Fonval  is 
not  a  gay  place.  We  are  hard  at  work.  Come 
alone  and  give  notice  " 

But,  Heavens !  I  had  given  notice  and  I  was 
alone  ! — I  who  had  considered  my  visit  as  a  duty ! 
Well,  well,  that  was  merely  a  piece  of  stupidity 
on  my  part. 

And  I  gazed  in  bad  humor  at  the  star  of  light 
on  the  roads  where  the  exhausted  head-lamps  were 
casting  no  brighter  an  illumination  than  a  night- 
light. 

Without  doubt  I  was  going  to  pass  the  night  in 
that  sylvan  jail;  nothing  would  get  me  out  of  it 
before  day.  The  toads  of  the  pool  in  the  Fonval 
direction  called  me  in  vain;  vainly  the  steeple 
clock  of  Grey  rang  out  the  hours  to  tell  me  of 
the  other  resting-place — for  belfries  are  really 
sonorous  lighthouses — I  was  a  prisoner. 

A  prisoner!       It  made  me  smile.       Long  ago 


28  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD    • 

how  frightened  I  should  have  been !  A  prisoner 
in  the  Ardennes !  At  the  mercy  of  Broceliande, 
the  monstrous  forest  which  with  its  cavernous 
shade  held  a  world  in  darkness  between  its  bound- 
aries, one  being  at  Blois  and  the  other  in  Constan- 
tinople !  Broceliande !  that  scene  of  epic  tales 
and  puerile  legends,  country  of  the  four  sons  of 
Aymon  and  of  Hop-o'-my-Thumb,  the  forest  of 
druids  and  goblins,  the  wood  in  which  Sleeping 
Beauty  fell  into  slumber* while  Charlemagne  kept 
watch!  What  fantastic  stories  had  not  its 
thickets  for  a  stage — were  not  the  trees  them- 
selves living  persons?  "Oh,  Aunt  Lidivine,"  I 
murmured,  "how  well  you*  could  give  life  to  all 
those  nonsensical  tales  every'evening  after  dinner! 
The  dear  lady!  Did  she  ever  suspect  the  influ- 
ence of  her  stories?  Aunt,  did  you  know  that  all 
your  astounding  puppets  invaded  my  life  by  pass- 
ing through  my  dreams?  Do  you  know  that  a 
flourish  of  enchanted  trumpets  still  sounds  in  my 
ears  sometimes ;  you  who  made  my  nights  at  Fon- 
val  resound  with  the  oliphant  of  Roland  and  the 
horn  of  Oberon?" 

At  that  moment  I  could  not  check  a  movement 
of  vexation;  the  head-lamps  had  just  gone  out 
after  an  agonized  throb.  For  a  second  the  dark- 
ness was  total,  and  at  the  same  time  there  was 
such  a  profound  silence  that  I  could  well  believe  I 
had  suddenly  become  blind  and  deaf. 


NOCTURNE  29 

Then  my  eyes  gradually  became  unsealed,  and 
soon  the  crescent  moon  appeared,  shedding  its 
snowy  light  on  the  cold  night.  The  forest  became 
lit  up  with  a  frozen  whiteness.  I  shivered.  In 
my  aunt's  lifetime  it  would  have  been  with  terror; 
I  should  have  beheld  in  the  darkness,  where  the 
vapors  were  creeping,  dragons  wallowing  and  ser- 
pents- gliding.  An  owl  flew  off.  I  should  have 
considered  that  bird  the  winged  helm  of  a  paladin 
— an.enchanted  paladin.  The  birch  tree,  standing 
straight  up,  shone  with  a  lance-like  gleam.  An 
oak  tree — a  son  perhaps  of  the  magic  tree  which 
was  the  husband  of  the  Princess  Leelina — quiv- 
ered. It  was  huge  and  druidical — a  bunch  of 
mistletoe  hung  on  its  main  branch,  and  the  moon 
cut  through  it  with  a  shining  sacred  sickle. 

Assuredly  the  nocturnal  landscape  was  like  an 
hallucination.  For  want  of  something  better  to 
do,  I  meditated  on  it.  Without  understanding 
why  as  well  as  I  do  to-day,  I  used  to  experience  all 
its  suggestiveness,  and  at  nightfall  I  only  ven- 
tured out  unwillingly.  Fonval  itself  was,  I  think, 
in  spite  of  its  countless  flowers  and  its  beautiful 
winding  alleys,  a  most  forbidding  place.  Its 
pointed  windows,  its  hundred  years  old  park  in- 
habited by  statues,  the  stagnant  water  of  its  pond, 
the  precipice  which  closed  it  in,  the  Hell-like  en- 
trance, all  these  things  made  that  ancient  abbey 
((transformed  into   a   chateau)    peculiar   even   in 


30  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

daylight,  and  one  would  not  have  been  surprised 
to  learn  that  everybody  there  talked  in  fables. 
That  would  have  been  his  real  language. 

That  at  any  rate  was  how  I  talked,  and  still 
more  how  I  acted,  during  my  holidays.  These 
were  for  me  a  long  fairy  tale  in  which  I  played 
with  imaginary  or  artificial  personages,  living  in 
the  water,  in  the  trees,  and  under  the  earth  oftener 
than  upon  it.  If  I  passed  the  lawn  galloping  with 
my  bare  legs,  my  air  clearly  showed  the  squadrons 
of  knights  were,  in  my  fancy,  charging  behind  me. 
And  the  old  boat  I  masted  for  the  occasion  with 
three  broomsticks,  on  which  bellied  nondescript 
sails,  served  me  as  a  galleon,  and  the  pond  became 
the  Mediterranean  bearing  the  fleet  of  the  Cru- 
saders. Lost  in  thought  and  looking  at  the  water- 
lily  islands  and  the  grass  peninsulas,  I  proclaimed: 
*'Here  are  Corsica  and  Sardinia  I  .  .  .  Italy  is  in 
sight.  .  .  .  We  are  sailing  round  Malta.  .  .  ." 
At  the  end  of  a  minute  I  cried  "Land!"  We 
were  landing  in  Palestine — "Montjoye  and  St. 
Denis !" — I  suffered  on  that  boat  sea-sickness  and 
home-sickness ;  the  Holy  War  intoxicated  me ; — 
I  learnt  in  it  two  things — enthusiasm  and 
geography.   .  .   . 

But  often  the  other  characters  were  repre- 
sented. That  made  it  more  real.  I  remembered 
then — for  every  child  has  a  Don  Quixote  in  him 
— I  remembered  a  giant  Briareus  who  was  the 


NOCTURNE  31 

summer-house,  and  especially  a  barrel  which  be- 
came the  dragon  of  Andromeda.  Oh,  that  barrel  I 
I  had  made  a  head  for  it  with  the  help  of  a  squint- 
ing pumpkin,  and  vampire  wings  with  two  um- 
brellas. Having  ambushed  my  contraption  at  the 
bend  of  an  alley,  leaning  it  up  against  a  terra- 
cotta nymph,  I  set  out  in  search  of  it  more  valiant 
than  the  real  Perseus,  and,  armed  with  a  pole,  I 
went  caracoling  on  an  invisible  hippogriff.  But 
when  I  discovered  it,  the  pumpkin  leered  at  me  so 
strangely  that  Perseus  almost  took  flight,  and  the 
umbrellas  owed  it  to  his  emotion  that  they  were 
broken  to  pieces  in  the  yellow  blood  of  the  face- 
tious vegetable. 

My  puppets  did  indeed  make  an  impression  on 
me  by  reason  of  the  role  I  assigned  them.  As  I 
always  reserved  for  myself  that  of  protagonist, 
hero,  conqueror,  I  easily  surmounted  that  terror 
during  the  day,  but  at  night,  though  the  hero  be- 
came little  Nicolas  Vermont,  an  urchin,  the  barrel 
remained  a  dragon.  Cowering  under  the  sheets, 
my  mind  excited  by  the  story  which  my  aunt  had 
just  finished,  I  knew  the  garden  was  peopled  with 
my  terrifying  fancies,  and  that  Briareus  was 
mounting  guard  there  all  the  time,  and  that  the 
dreadful  barrel,  resuscitated,  hiding  its  claws  with 
its  wings,  watched  my  window  from  afar. 

At  that  age  I  despaired  of  ever  being,  later  on 
in  life,  like  other  people,  and  able  to  face  the  dark. 


32  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

And  yet  my  fears  did  vanish,  leaving  me  impres- 
sionable no  doubt,  but  not  a  coward;  and  it  was 
indeed  I  who  found  myself  without  dismay  lost  in 
the  lonely  wood — all  too  empty,  alas,  of  fairies 
and  enchanters. 

I  had  just  reached  this  point  in  my  reverie, 
when  a  sort  of  vague  noise  arose  in  the  Fonval  di- 
rection; an  ox's  lowing,  and  something  like  a  dog's 
long  mournful  howl.  That  was  all — and  then  the 
sleeping  calm  returned. 

Some  minutes  elapsed,  and  next  I  heard  an  owl 
hoot  somewhere  between  myself  and  the  chateau; 
another  raised  its  voice  not  so  far  away  as  the 
first;  and  then  others  took  flight  from  places 
nearer  and  nearer  me,  as  if  the  passage  of  some 
creature  were  scaring  them. 

And  indeed  a  light  sound  of  steps  like  the  trot 
of  some  four-footed  animal,  made  itself  heard 
and  drew  nearer  on  the  roadway.  I  listened  for 
some  time  to  the  beast  moving  to  and  fro  in  the 
labyrinth,  losing  itself  like  me  perhaps,  and  then 
suddenly  it  appeared  before  me. 

One  could  not  mistake  its  spreading  antlers, 
the  height  of  its  neck  and  the  delicacy  of  its  ears; 
it  was  a  stag  of  ten.  But  hardly  had  I  perceived 
it  than  it  made  off  in  a  sudden  volte-face.  Then — 
had  it  gathered  itself  in  to  spring? — its  body 
seemed  to  me  strangely  low  and  paltry,  and  was 
it  a  mere  reflection? — seemed  to  me  to  be  of  a 


NOCTURNE  33 

white  color.  The  animal  disappeared  in  a  twin- 
kling, and  its  little  galloping  steps  died  quickly 
away. 

Had  I  at  the  first  glance  taken  a  goat  for  a  stag? 
Or  had  I  at  the  second  glance  taken  a  stag  for 
a  goat?  To  tell  the  truth,  I  was  much  interested 
and  puzzled;  so  much  so  that  I  asked  myself 
whether  I  were  not  going  to  resume  the  soul  of 
the  child  I  had  been  at  Fonval. 

But  a  little  reflection  made  me  realize  that 
hunger,  fatigue  and  sleepiness,  helped  out  by 
moonshine,  may  easily  cause  one's  eyes  to  be 
deceived,  and  that  a  ray  falling  on  an  object  and 
transforming  it  is  no  unwonted  phenomenon. 

I  rather  regretted  it;  for,  having  lost  my  terror 
of  the  mysterious,  I  had  still  kept  my  love  for  it. 
I  am  one  of  those  who  are  sorry  that  "Philosophy 
has  clipped  an  angel's  wings,"  and  yet  I  cannot 
let  a  mystery  remain  a  mystery  for  me. 

Now  this  beast  was  really  a  very  extraordinary 
beast. 

Wandering  as  it  was  through  the  incomprehen- 
sible labyrinth  of  the  wood,  it  seemed  to  me  an 
elusive  riddle  in  a  problem,  and  my  curiosity  was 
aroused. 

But  utterly  wearied  as  I  was,  I  soon  fell  asleep 
pondering  detective  ruses  and  subtle  logical 
methods  of  investigation. 


34  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

I  awoke  at  dawn,  and  immediately  I  had  a 
glimpse  of  a  possible  end  to  my  imprisonment. 

Not  far  from  where  I  was,  some  men,  hidden 
by  the  underwood,  were  walking  and  talking. 
Their  steps  came  and  went  like  those  of  the 
stag(?)  treading,  doubtless  the  same  winding 
ways.  At  one  moment  they  passed,  still  hidden, 
a  few  paces  away  from  my  car,  but  I  could  not 
understand  their  conversation — it  seemed  to  be 
in  German. 

At  last  they  stood  before  me  at  the  very  place 
where  the  animal  had  appeared.  There  were 
three  of  them,  and  they  were  bending  down  as 
if  they  were  following  a  trail.  At  the  spot  where 
the  beast  had  turned,  one  of  them  uttered  an 
exclamation  and  made  a  gesture  as  if  they  should 
go  back.  But  they  perceived  me  and  I  advanced 
towards  them. 

"Gentlemen,"  said  I  smiling  my  best,  "could 
you  kindly  show  me  the  way  to  Fonval?  I  have 
lost  myself." 

The  three  men  looked  at  me  without  replying, 
in  an  inquisitive  and  shy  way. 

They  were  a  very  remarkable  trio. 

The  first  possessed  on  the  top  of  a  massive  and 
squat  body  a  round  and  calamitously  flat  face,  the 
thin  pointed  nose  on  which,  as  if  it  had  been 
shoved  into  it,  made  the  disc  into  a  sundial. 

The  second  had  a  military  air  and  was  twist- 


fJLrJ 

NOCTURNE  3  5 


ing  his  mustache,  which  was  on  the  German  im- 
perial model,  and  his  chin  stuck  out  like  the  toe 
of  a  boot. 

A  tall  old  man  with  gold  spectacles,  gray  curly 
hair  and  an  unkempt  beard,  made  up  the  trio.  He 
was  eating  cherries  in  a  noisy  way,  as  a  bumpkin 
eats  tripe. 

They  were  obvious  Germans,  doubtless  the 
assistants  from  the  Anatomisches  Institut. 

The  tall  old  man  spat  out  in  my  direction  a 
salvo  of  cherry-stones,  and  in  the  direction  of 
his  comrades,  one  of  those  Teuton  phrases,  in 
which  a  hail  of  shrapnel-like  words  mingles  with 
other  nameless  noises. 

They  exchanged  in  their  own  way  some  re- 
marks which  resembled  so  many  broadsides,  with- 
out paying  the  least  attention  to  me,  and  then 
after  cleverly  imitating  with  their  mouths  the 
sound  of  a  battle  going  on  beside  a  waterfall — 
having  held  a  council,  in  fact — they  turned  on 
their  heels  and  left  me  astounded  at  their  rude- 
ness. 

But  I  had  to  get  out  of  that  fix  somehow  or 
other.  My  adventure  became  hourly  more 
ridiculous.  What  was  the  meaning  of  all  this? 
What  comedy  was  I  playing?  Was  I  being  made 
a  fool  of?  I  was  furious.  The  would-be  secrets 
I  had  fancied  I  scented  now  seemed  to  me  mere 
childishness   caused  by  weariness  and  the   dark. 


36  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

The  thing  was  to  get  away — to  get  away  at  once. 

Raging  and  without  reflection  I  made  the  con- 
tact which  set  the  car  going,  and  the  80  horse- 
power engine  started  to  work  in  the  bonnet  with 
the  humming  of  a  hive  of  bees.  I  seized  the 
starting  lever — and  then  a  great  guffaw  of  laugh- 
ter made  me  turn  round. 

With  his  cap  over  his  ears,  in  blouse  of  blue, 
and  with  his  letter-bag  on  his  shoulder,  hilarious 
and  triumphant,  a  postman  came  on  the  scene. 

"Ha,  ha !  I  told  you  last  night  that  you  would 
lose  your  way,"  said  he  in  a  drawling  voice. 

I  recognized  my  villager  of  Grey-l'Abbaye,  and 
bad  temper  prevented  me  answering  him. 

"It's  to  Fonval  you  want  to  go,  is  it?"  he  went 
on. 

I  cursed  Fonval  in  some  very  profane  language 
in  which  I  consigned  it  and  its  inhabitants  to  the 
Devil. 

"Because,"  went  on  the  postman,  "if  you  are 
going  there,  I'll  show  you  the  way.  I  am  taking 
the  letters  there.  But  make  haste,  I  have  double 
load  to-day;  for  this  is  Monday  and  I  don't  come 
on  Sunday." 

While  saying  this,  he  had  drawn  his  letters 
from  his  bag,  and  was  arranging  them  in  his 
hand. 

"Show  me  that,"  I  cried  sharply,  "Yes,  that 
yellow  envelope." 


NOCTURNE  37 

He  looked  me  up  and  down  distrustfully  and 
then  let  me  look  at  It  from  a  distance. 

It  was  my  letter — the  announcement  of  my 
arrival,  which  followed  it  by  a  night,  instead  of 
preceding  it  by  a  day! 

This  untoward  circumstance  absolved  my  uncle 
and  drove  away  my  rancour. 

"Get  in,"  I  said.  "You  shall  show  me  the  way 
and  then  ...  we  shall  have  a  talk!" 

The  car  set  off  in  the  freshness  of  the  morning. 

A  mist  was  just  melting  away,  as  if  the  sun 
after  whitening  the  dark  had  still  to  dissolve  it, 
and  as  if  this  faint  fog,  now  almost  nothing,  were 
a  portion  of  the  darkness  remaining  in  the  form 
of  vapor,  an  evanescent  remainder  of  the  night 
within  the  day,  the  vanishing  specter  of  a  van- 
ished phantom. 


CHAPTER  II 

AMONG  THE  SPHINXES 

The  car  slowly  wound  its  way  among  the  twists 
and  turns  of  the  labyrinth.  Sometimes  in  pres- 
ence of  a  cluster  of  roads  the  postman  himself 
hesitated  for  a  moment. 

"Since  when  have  these  zigzags  taken  the  place 
of  the  straight  avenue?"  I  asked. 

"Four  years  ago,  Sir — about  a  year  after  the 
settling  in  of  Mr,  Learne  in  the  chateau." 

"Do  you  know  the  meaning  of  them  ?  You  may 
speak  freely.    I  am  the  professor's  nephew." 

"Oh,  well,  he's  .  .  .  he's,  well  an  eccentric 
man." 

"What  sort  of  unusual  things  does  he  do?" 

"Oh,  well,  nothing.  One  hardly  ever  sees  him. 
That's  just  the  funny  part  of  it.  Before  he  took 
this  higgledy-piggledy  into  his  head,  one  met  him 
often.  He  used  to  walk  about  in  the  country, 
but  ever  since  then  .  .  .  well,  he  does  take  the 
train  to  Grey  once  a  month." 

So  all  my  uncle's  eccentricities  came  to  a  head 
at  the  same  epoch ;  the  maze  and  the  different  style 

38 


AMONG  THE  SPHINXES  39 

of  his  letters  coincided  as  to  date.  Something 
at  that  time  had  profoundly  influenced  his  mind. 

"And  what  about  his  companions?"  I  went  on, 
"the  Germans?" 

"Oh,  as  for  them,  Sir,  they  are  invisible. 
Moreover,  although  I  go  to  Fonval  six  times  a 
week  I  do  not  remember  when  I  last  clapped  eyes 
on  the  park.  It's  Mr.  Lerne  himself  who  comes 
to  the  gate  for  his  letters.  Oh,  what  a  change  I 
Did  you  know  old  John?  Well,  he's  gone,  and 
his  wife  too.  It's  as  true  as  I'm  talking  to  you. 
Sir.  No  more  coachman,  no  more  housekeeper 
...  no  more  horses." 

"That's  been  so  for  four  years,  you  say?" 

"Yes,  Sir." 

"Tell  me,  postman,  there's  game  about  here, 
is  there  not?" 

"Faith,  no.  A  few  rabbits,  two  or  three  hares 
— but  there  are  too  many  foxes." 

"What,  no  roe-deer?  no  stags?" 

"Never." 

And  now  I  felt  a  strange  thrill  of  joy. 

"Here  we  are,  Sir  1" 

After  a  final  bend,  the  road  did  open  out  on 
the  old  avenue  of  which  Lerne  had  kept  this  little 
bit.  It  was  fringed  by  two  rows  of  limes, ^  and 
from  the  end  of  the  two  rows  they  formed,  the 
door  of  Fonval  seemed  to  be  coming  towards  us. 


40  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

In  front  of  it,  a  carriage-sweep  in  the  shape  of 
a  half  moon  widened  the  avenue,  and  beyond  that 
one  saw  the  outhne  of  the  blue  roof  of  the 
chateau  against  the  green  of  the  trees,  and  the 
trees  themselves  standing  out  on  the  somber 
flanks  of  the  gully. 

In  the  midst  of  the  wall  which  joined  the  cliffs 
on  either  hand  stood  the  door  with  its  tiled  porch. 
It  had  aged,  and  the  stone  of  the  lintel  was  worn 
away;  the  wood  of  its  panels  was  worm-eaten 
and  crumbling  into  powder  here  and  there;  but 
the  bell  had  not  changed.  It's  sound  came  from 
my  distant  boyhood,  so  bright  and  clear  that  I 
could  have  wept  at  it. 

We  waited  for  a  few  moments. 

At  last  some  wooden  shoes  clattered. 

"Is  that  you,  Guilloteau?"  said  a  voice  with 
a  trans-Rhenish  accent. 

"Yes,  Mr.  Lerne." 

Mr.  Lerne !  I  looked  at  my  guide  with  eyes 
wide  with  wonder — What!  Was  that  my  uncle 
speaking  like  that? 

"You  are  early,"  went  on  the  voice.  There  was 
the  metallic  sound  of  moving  bolts;  then  the  door 
was  opened  ajar,  and  a  hand  was  passed  through 
it. 

"Give  me  them." 

"Here   they  are,   Mr.   Lerne.      But  there   is 


AMONG  THE  SPHINXES  41 

some  one  with  me,"  said  the  postman  in  an  In- 
sinuating and  timid  way. 

"Who  Is  it?"  cried  the  other — and  In  the  fis- 
sure formed  by  the  hardly  opened  door,  he 
appeared. 

It  was  my  uncle  Lerne.  But  life  had  laid  hand 
on  him,  had  made  him  much  older,  and  turned 
him  into  this  wild  unkempt  individual  whose 
straggling  gray  hair  covered  his  shabby  clothes 
with  dirty  grease.  He  seemed  smitten  with 
premature  old  age,  and  there  was  an  unfriendly 
gleam  in  the  evil  eyes  which  he  fixed  on  me,  from 
under  their  knitted  eyebrows. 

"What  do  you  want?"  he  asked  me  rudely. 

He  pronounced  the  words  like  a  German, 

I  had  a  moment  of  hesitation.  The  fact  was 
that  his  face  could  no  longer  be  compared  to  that 
of  a  kind  old  woman;  It  was  a  Sioux  visage,  hair- 
less and  cruel,  and  at  the  sight  of  It  I  experienced 
the  contradictory  sensations  of  recognizing  It  and 
not  recognizing  it. 

"But,  Uncle,"  I  stuttered  finally,  "it's  I  .  .  . 
I  have  come  to  see  you — according  to  leave  given 
by  you.  I  wrote  to  you;  but  my  letter  .  .  .  here 
it  is !  my  letter  and  I  arrive  together.  Excuse  my 
carelessness." 

"Ah,  you  should  have  told  me.  It  Is  I  that  ask 
pardon  of  you,  my  dear  nephew." 

A  sudden  change  this !     Lerne  showed  eager- 


42  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD   . 

ness  to  welcome  me !  he  blushed  and  seemed  con- 
fused and  almost  servile.  This  embarrassment, 
misplaced  with  regard  to  me,  shocked  me. 

"Ha  ha !  youVe  come  with  a  mechanical  car- 
riage," he  added.  "Hum,  there's  a  place  to  put 
it  in,  isn't  there?" 

He  opened  both  folding-doors. 

"Here  one  has  often  to  be  one's  own  servant," 
he  said,  while  the  old  hinges  creaked. 

Thereupon  he  burst  into  an  awkward  sort  of 
laugh.  I  could  have  wagered,  looking  at  his  per- 
plexed expression,  that  he  had  no  desire  to  do  so, 
and  that  his  thoughts  were  far  away  from  joking. 

The  postman  had  taken  his  leave. 

"Is  the  coach-house  still  there?"  I  said,  point- 
ing to  the  right  at  a  brick  building. 

"Yes,  yes.  I  did  not  recognize  you  because 
of  your  mustache — hum!  Yes,  your  mustache. 
You  hadn't  one  long  ago  .  .  .  had  you?  Well, 
and  how  old  are  you?" 

"Thirty-one,  uncle." 

At  the  sight  of  the  coach-house  my  heart 
stopped. 

The  dog-cart  was  moldering  there,  half  buried 
under  logs,  and  there,  as  in  the  neighboring  stable 
which  was  full  of  odds  and  ends,  the  spider  webs 
were  hanging  whole  or  in  shreds. 

"Thirty-one,  already,"  went  on  Lerne  in  a 
vague  and  obviously  distracted  manner. 


AMONG  THE  SPHINXES  43 

"But,  Uncle,  say  tu  and  tot  to  me,  as  long  ago." 

"Ah,  yes,  dear  .  .   .   Nicolas,  eh?" 

I  was  very  ill  at  ease,  but  he  did  not  seem  more 
at  his  ease  than  I  was.  My  presence  clearly 
annoyed  him. 

It  is  always  an  interesting  thing  for  an  intruder 
to  learn  why  he  is  so, — I  seized  my  valise. 
Lerne  observed  my  gesture  and  seemed  to  form 
a  sudden  resolve. 

"Let  it  be — let  it  be,  Nicholas,"  he  said  in  a 
tone  of  command.  "I'll  send  to  fetch  your  lug- 
gage shortly.  But  first  we  must  have  a  talk. 
Come  for  a  walk." 

He  took  my  arm  and  drew  me  towards  the 
park.     He  was  still  reflecting,  however. 

We  passed  near  the  chateau.  With  few  ex- 
ceptions the  shutters  were  closed.  The  roof  in 
many  places  was  sinking  in,  sometimes  even 
broken,  and  the  moldy  walls  from  which  the 
whitewash  had  disappeared  in  large  flakes  here 
and  there  showed  their  masonry.  The  plants  in 
boxes  still  surrounded  the  house,  but,  to  tell  the 
truth,  for  several  winters  no  one  had  thought  of 
putting  the  verbenas  and  orange-trees  and  laurels 
under  cover.  Standing  in  their  battered  and 
rotten  tubs  they  were  all  dead.  The  sandy 
carriage-drive,  of  yore  so  carefully  raked,  might 
have  imagined  itself  a  second-rate  meadow,  there 
was  so  much  grass  growing  there  mingled  with 


44  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD   . 

nettles  and  hemlock.  It  was  like  the  castle  of 
"Sleeping  Beauty"  on  the  Prince's  arrival.  Lerne, 
clinging  to  my  arm,  walked  without  further  talk. 

We  got  to  the  other  side  of  the  dreary  pile, 
and  the  park  lay  before  our  eyes.  A  jumble.  No 
more  baskets  of  flowers,  no  more  wide,  sandy 
paths  like  winding  ribbons.  Except  just  in  front 
of  the  chateau,  the  lawn — which  had  been  meta- 
morphosed into  a  paddock  fenced  with  wire  and 
given  up  to  some  cattle  to  feed  in — had  been  en- 
croached on  by  the  valley  which  had  relapsed  into 
its  wild  state.  The  garden  was  no  more  than  a 
great  wood  with  open  spaces  and  green  paths  in 
it.  The  Ardennes  had  reassumed  their  usurped 
domain. 

Lerne  thoughtfully  filled  an  immense  pipe  with 
feverish  fingers,  lit  it,  and  then  we  went  under 
the  trees  into  one  of  the  alleys  that  were  like  long 
caves. 

Once  more  I  saw  the  statues  and  with  a  dis- 
illusioned eye,  the  statues  which  a  former  master 
of  Fonval  had  erected  in  profusion.  Those  mag- 
nificent dumb  personages  of  my  dramas  were  as 
a  matter  of  fact  wretched  modern  figures,  sug- 
gested to  some  commercially-minded  magnate  of 
industry  of  the  Second  Empire  by  Rome  or 
Greece.  The  tunics  of  concrete  swelled  out  Into 
crinolines,  the  drapery  of  the  cloaks  was  like  that 
of  a  shawl,   and  the  divinities  of  the  woods — 


AMONG  THE  SPHINXES  45 

Echo,  Syrinx,  Arethusa — wore  low  chignons  which 
filled  their  bag-like  nets — in  the  Benoiton  man- 
ner. Those  hideous  representations  of  exquisite 
fantasies,  of  forest  charms  transmuted  into 
Dryads,  were  to-day  more  passable  In  their 
mantles  of  virgin-vine  and  clematis,  although 
certain  heroes  were  no  more  than  ivy-clad  figures 
of  fun,  and  although  a  mere  moss-clad  attitude 
represented  Diana. 

After  walking  for  some  time,  my  uncle  made 
me  sit  down  on  a  bench  of  stone  covered  with 
a  coat  of  lichen,  under  the  shade  of  flourishing 
hazels. 

A  little  crackling  sound  made  itself  heard  in 
the  bower  right  over  our  heads. 

Lerne  jumped  convulsively  and  raised  his  head. 

It  was  merely  a  squirrel  watching  us  from  the 
top  of  a  branch. 

My  uncle  darted  a  ferocious  glance  at  it,  fix- 
ing it  as  if  he  were  taking  aim  at  it;  then  he 
began  to  laugh  in  a  reassured  sort  of  way. 

"Ha,  ha,  ha !  it's  only  a  little  .  .  .  thing,"  said 
he,  unable  to  find  the  word. 

"Really,"  thought  I  within  myself,  "how  queer 
one  may  become  as  one  gets  old.  Environment, 
I  know,  is  the  cause  of  many  evolutions;  one 
adopts  the  ways  and  manner  of  speech  of  one's 
familiars  in  spite  of  oneself;  the  surroundings  of 
Lerne  might  suffice  to  explain  why  my  uncle  is 


46  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

dirty,  expresses  himself  ill,  speaks  with  a  German 
accent  and  sm^okes  that  huge  pipe.  .  .  .  But  he 
has  ceased  caring  for  flowers,  he  no  longer  looks 
after  his  property,  and  at  this  moment  looks 
extraordinarily  nervous  and  preoccupied.  If  one 
adds  to  that  the  happenings  of  last  night,  it  all 
seems  something  less  than  natural." 

Meanwhile  the  Professor  looked  at  me  in  a 
disconcerting  way,  and  eyed  me  up  and  down  as 
if  here  were  sizing  me  up  and  had  never  seen 
me  before.  I  began  to  lose  countenance.  A  fierce 
debate  was  going  on  within  him  which  was  re- 
flected on  his  face.  Every  moment  our  looks 
crossed,  but  at  last  they  met,  and  joined,  and  my 
uncle,  not  being  able  to  hold  his  peace  any  longer 
appeared  for  the  second  time  to  make  up  his  mind. 
"Nicolas,"  he  said,  patting  me  on  the  thigh, 
"I  am  a  ruined  man,  you  know." 

I  understood  his  plan,  and  was  revolted. 

"Uncle,  be  frank  with  me ;  you  want  me  to  go  !" 

"I  want  you  to  go  !    What  an  idea  !" 

"I  am  quite  sure  of  it.     Your  invitation  was 

rather   discouraging,    and  your   welcome   hardly 

hospitable.      But,   uncle,  you  must  have   a  very 

short  memory  if  you  think  me  avaricious  enough 

to  have  come  here  merely  for  your  money.     I  see 

you  are  no  longer  the  same — your  letters  indeed 

made  me  fear  that — and  yet  it  utterly  bewilders 

me  that  you  should  have  thought  of  this  clumsy 


AMONG  THE  SPHINXES  47 

subterfuge  intended  to  drive  me  away.  For  dur- 
ing these  fifteen  years  /  have  not  changed.  I  have 
never  ceased  venerating  you  with  my  whole 
heart,  and  have  deserved  better  at  your  hands 
than  those  icy  epistles  and,  above  all,  better 
than  this  insult." 

"There,  there!  Gently!"  said  Lerne,  much 
annoyed. 

"Moreover,  if  you  want  me  to  go,  just  say 
the  word  and  I'm  off.  You  are  no  uncle  of  mine 
now." 

"Don't  talk  such  blasphemous  nonsense, 
Nicolas."  He  said  that  in  a  tone  of  such  alarm 
that  I  tried  intimidation. 

"And  I  shall  inform  against  you,  uncle,  you 
and  your  acolytes  and  your  mysteries." 

"You  are  mad,  you  are  mad.  Hold  your 
tongue.     There's  an  idea  for  you!" 

Lerne  began  to  laugh  loudly,  but  I  don't  know 
why,  his  eyes  frightened  me,  and  I  regretted  my 
phrase. 

He  went  on. 

"Look  here,  Nicolas,  don't  get  excited!  You 
are  a  good  fellow.  Give  me  your  hand.  You 
shall  always  find  in  me  your  old  uncle  who  loves 
you.  Listen,  it's  not  true;  no,  I  am  not  ruined, 
and  my  heir  will  certainly  get  something; — if  he 
acts  as  I  desire.  But,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  I  think 
he  would  do  better  not  to  stay  here.  .  .  .  There's 


48  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

nothing  here  to  amuse  a  man  of  your  age,  Nico- 
las; personally  I  am  busy  all  day  long." 

The  Professor  might  talk  as  he  liked  now. 
Hypocrisy  showed  itself  in  every  word;  he  was 
nothing  but  a  contemptible  Tartuffe;  he  was  fair 
game.  I  determined  not  to  leave  till  I  had  com- 
pletely satisfied  my  curiosity.  So,  interrupting 
him,  I  said  in  a  tone  of  deep  dejection: 

"There  you  are  making  use  of  the  inheritance 
business  again  to  make  me  decide  to  leave  Fonval. 
You  have  clearly  no  trust  in  me." 

With  a  gesture  he  deprecated  the  idea.  I  went 
on: 

"No,  allow  me  to  remain  in  order  that  we  may 
renew  our  acquaintance.  We  both  need  to  do 
so." 

Lerne  knitted  his  eyebrows,  then  he  said  in  a 
mocking  tone : 

"You  insist  on  renouncing  me?" 

"No;  keep  me  beside  you,  otherwise  you  will 
hurt  my  feelings  deeply;  frankly,"  this  in  a  banter- 
ing tone,  "I  should  not  know  what  to  think." 

"Stop,"  rejoined  my  uncle  with  energy,  "there 
is  nothing  wrong  to  suspect  here — far  from  it." 

"No  doubt.  All  the  same,  you  have  secrets — 
as  you  have  every  right  to  have.  If  I  speak  to 
you  of  them,  it  is  because  I  must  resign  myself 
to  assure  you  that  I  shall  respect  them." 

"There  is  only  one!    A  single  secret.    And  its 


AMONG  THE  SPHINXES  49 

aim  is  noble  and  salutary,"  said  my  uncle  sen- 
tentlously  and  with  animation:  "One  only,  I 
tell  you — that  concerning  our  work;  a  blessing 
to  humanity — glory  too  and  gold !  But  we  must 
have  silence  assured  us.  Secrets !  Everybody 
knows  we  are  here,  that  we  are  working.  The 
newspapers  have  said  so — there  is  no  secret  in 
that." 

"Keep  calm,  uncle,  and  tell  me  how  I  am  to  be- 
have in  your  house.  I  am  entirely  at  your  dis- 
posal." 

Lerne  resumed  his  inward  debate: 

"Well,"  said  he,  raising  his  brow,  "it  is  agreed- 
Such  an  uncle  as  I  have  always  shown  myself  to- 
wards you  cannot  possibly  drive  you  away.  That 
would  be  belying  all  my  past.  Remain  then,  but 
on  the  following  conditions : 

"We  are  pursuing  researches  here  that  are 
about  to  come  to  their  fulfillment.  When  our  dis- 
covery is  a  fait  accompli  the  public  will  hear  of 
It  In  its  entirety.  Till  then,  I  do  not  wish  It  to  be 
Informed  of  uncertain  attempts  whose  revelation 
might  raise  up  rivals  capable  of  anticipating  us. 
I  do  not  doubt  your  discretion,  but  I  prefer  not 
to  put  it  to  the  test,  and  I  entreat  you  In  your 
own  interests  not  to  try  to  surprise  any  secrets, 
rather  than  to  be  obliged  to  hide  them.  I  say, 
'in  your  own  interests' ;  not  merely  because  it  Is 
easier  not  to  pry  than  to  hold  one's  tongue,  but 


so  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

also  for  the  following  reasons:  Our  business  is 
a  commercial  one  at  bottom.  A  man  of  business 
like  you  will  be  very  useful  to  me.  We  shall  be- 
come rich,  nephew — millionaires!  But  you  must 
let  me  forget  the  instrument  of  your  fortune  in 
peace,  you  must  show  yourself  a  man  of  tact  and 
respectful  of  my  orders — in  a  word,  the  man  I 
want  as  an  associate.  You  must  know,  I  am  not 
alone  in  this  enterprise.  They  might  make  you 
repent  of  your  acts,  if  you  transgressed  the  rule 
I  am  laying  down  for  you — cruelly  repent — more 
cruelly  than  you  imagine.  So  practice  indiffer- 
ence, my  dear  nephew.  See  nothing,  hear  noth- 
ing, understand  nothing,  in  order  that  you  may 
become  very,  very  rich — and  remain  alive !" 

"Oh,  indifference  is  not  so  easy  a  virtue  at 
Fonval.  There  have  been  things  going  about 
here  since  last  night  which  should  not  be  here  and 
only  find  themselves  here  through  some  bit  of 
carelessness." 

At  those  words  an  unexpected  rage  seized 
Lerne.  He  flung  out  his  fists  and  growled: 
"Wilhelm!  Fool!  Ass!"  What  I  now  felt  sure 
of  was  that  the  secrets  were  considerable  and 
would  give  me  fine  surprises  were  they  discovered. 
As  for  the  doctor's  promises,  and  his  threats,  I 
did  not  beheve  in  either,  and  his  speech  had 
neither  aroused  covetousness  nor  fear  in  me — ^the 


AMONG  THE  SPHINXES  51 

two  passions  that  my  uncle  wished  to  make  my 
counselors  to  obedience.     I  rejoined  coldly: 

"Is  that  all  you  ask  of  me?" 

"No.  But  the  next  prohibition  is  of  another 
kind,  Nicolas.  You  will  be  presented  to  some- 
body in  the  chateau;  it  is  a  young  girl  I  res- 
cued ..." 

I  made  a  movement  of  surprise,  and  Lerne 
guessed  my  Imputation. 

"Oh!"  he  exclaimed,  "she  is  like  a  daughter — 
nothing  more.  But  her  friendship  Is  precious  to 
me,  and  it  would  b?  painful  to  me  to  see  it  lessened 
by  a  sentiment  v'liich  I  can  no  longer  inspire.  In 
short,  Nicolas,"  he  said  quickly  and  with  a  cer- 
tain shamefacedaess,  "I  ask  you  to  swear  not  to 
pay  court  to  my  protegee." 

Astounded  at  such  a  degraded  view,  and  still 
more  so  at  such  a  want  of  delicate  feeling,  I  told 
myself,  however,  that  there  is  no  jealousy  with- 
out love  any  more  than  there  is  smoke  without  fire. 

"What  do  you  take  me  for,  uncle?  It  is  suffi- 
cient that  I  am  your  guest." 

"All  right — I  know  my  physiology  and  how  to 
use  It.  May  I  trust  you?  You  swear  It?  Very 
well." 

"As  for  her,"  he  added  with  a  crafty  smile, 
"I  am  easy  for  the  time  being.  She  has  lately 
seen  my  way  of  treating  suitors.  I  advise  you 
not  to  make  trial  of  It." 


52  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

Having  got  up,  with  his  hands  in  his  pockets, 
and  his  pipe  between  his  teeth,  Lerne  looked  me 
up  and  down  in  a  jocular  and  provocative  manner. 
This  physiologist  inspired  me  with  an  unconquer- 
able aversion. 

We  continued  our  walk  round  the  park. 

"Ah,  by  the  way,  do  you  know  German?"  said 
the  Professor. 

"No,  uncle;  I  only  understand  French  and 
Spanish." 

"No  English  either?  That's  not  much  for  a 
future  merchant  prince,  ^ou  have  not  been 
taught  much,  I  fear.'* 

"Tell  that  to  the  Marines,  uncle,"  said  I  to 
myself.  "I  had  begun  to  keep  wide  open  those 
eyes  you  commanded  me  to  keep  shut,  and  I  saw 
just  then  that  your  satisfied  expression  gave  your 
words  the  lie." 

We  reached  the  end  of  the  park  by  way  of 
the  foot  of  the  cliffs  and  came  in  front  of  the 
chateau  which  seemed  stretching  its  two  wings 
towards  us  and  dominating  the  underwood  with 
its  ruinous  facade. 

And  it  was  at  this  exact  moment  that  my  eye 
was  caught  by  an  abnormal  bird,  a  pigeon,  which 
was  wheeling  in  the  air,  and  flew  upwards  with 
ever-narrowing  and  giddy  circles. 

"Just  look  at  those  roses  on  that  long  branch 
of  briar;  they  are  pretty  and  interesting,"  said  my 


AMONG  THE  SPHINXES  53 

uncle,  "Left  to  grow  wild,  they  have  become 
dog-roses  again." 

"What  a  curious  pigeon !"  I  said. 

"Just  look  at  those  flowers,"  insisted  Lcrne. 

"One  would  think  there  was  a  drop  of  lead  in 
its  head.  That  happens  sometimes  when  one  is 
out  shooting.  It  will  tower  and  tower,  and  then 
fall  from  as  high  as  possible." 

"If  you  don't  watch  your  feet,  you  will  fall 
head  over  heels  into  the  thorn-bushes.  It's  a 
breakneck  place,  this,  nephew." 

This  useful  bit  of  counsel  was  growled  out  in 
a  menacing  tone  that  sounded  strangely  out  of 
place. 

Then  the  bird  attained  the  center  of  its  spiral 
and  began  not  to  mount,  but  to  come  down  with 
wild  tumblings,  and  whirling  over  and  over.  It  hit 
a  rock  not  far  from  us  and  fell,  an  inert  thing, 
into  the  thick  herbage. 

Why  did  the  Professor  suddenly  become  more 
restless?  Why  did  he  hasten  his  steps?  That  is 
what  I  was  asking  myself,  when  the  big  pipe  fell 
from  his  mouth.  Having  dashed  forward  to  pick 
it  up  I  could  not  restrain  a  look  of  stupefaction; 
he  had  snapped  it  off  sharp  with  a  furious  bite. 

The  scene  ended  with  a  German  word— doubt- 
less an  oath. 

As  we  returned  in  the  direction  of  the  chateau 


54  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

we  saw  running  towards  us  a  fat  woman  who 
seemed  bursting  out  of  her  blue  apron. 

She  was  evidently  unused  to  such  athletic 
exercise  and  it  went  against  the  grain,  for  it  shook 
her  dangerously,  and  as  she  trotted  along,  she 
kept  herself  together  by  means  of  her  arms  and 
hands  as  if  she  were  pressing  some  precious,  huge 
and  unwieldy  burden  against  her  person.  At  the 
sight  of  us,  she  stopped  all  of  a  piece — a  thing 
that  seemed  almost  an  impossibility — then  she 
ssemed  to  want  to  retrace  her  steps.  However, 
she  came  on  with  a  guilty  look  on  her  kindly  face, 
a  look  as  of  a  school-girl  caught  in  a  fault.  She 
awaited  her  fate. 

Lerne  scolded  her: 

"Barbel  What  are  you  doing  here?  You 
have  forgotten.  I  forbade  you  to  go  beyond  the 
paddock.  I'll  end  by  sending  you  packing,  Barbe, 
after  punishing  you — you  know." 

The  fat  woman  was  very  much  afraid.  She 
tried  to  bridle,  made  a  mouth  as  if  she  were  going 
to  lay  an  egg  with  it  and  excused  herself — she 
had,  from  her  kitchen,  seen  the  pigeon  fall  and 
thought  she  might  brighten  up  the  bill  of  fare  with 
it.     "You  always  have  the  same  dishes  to  eat." 

"And  then,"  she  added  stupidly,  "I  did  not 
think  you  were  In  the  garden,  I  thought  you  were 
in  the  lab  .  .  ." 

A  brutal  slap  in  the  face  interrupted  her  on 


AMONG  THE  SPHINXES  55 

that  syllable — the  first  syllable  of  "labyrinth," 
as  I  imagined. 

"Oh,  uncle  I"  I  cried  Indignantly. 

"Look  here,  you !  Hold  your  tongue,  or  off 
with  you  I     That's  clear  enough.  Isn't  it?" 

Barbe  was  terrified  and  no  longer  wept.  Her 
suppressed  sobs  made  her  hiccup.  She  was 
very  pale,  and  on  her  cheek  the  bony  hand  of 
Lerne  remained  printed  In  red. 

"Go  and  take  this  gentleman's  luggage  from 
the  coach-house  and  put  it  In  the  lion-room." 

(This  room  was  on  the  first  story  of  the 
western  wing.) 

"Won't  you  give  me  my  old  room,  uncle?" 

"Which  was  that?" 

"Which?  Why,  the  one  on  the  ground  floor, 
the  yellow  room,  in  the  East  wing,  you  know." 

"No.  I  use  that  one,"  he  said  sharply.  "Off 
with  you,  Barbe." 

The  cook  decamped  as  fast  as  she  could. 

On  our  right  the  pond  was  lying  there  stag- 
nant. Our  silent  passage  flung  its  shadow  into 
it,  and  it  looked  there  like  a  dream  In  a  lethargy. 

My  astonishment  was  growing  every  moment. 
However,  I  kept  myself  from  seeming  too  much 
surprised  at  the  sight  of  a  new  and  spacious 
building  of  gray  stone  built  against  the  cliff.  It 
consisted  of  two  blocks  separated  by  a  courtyard. 
A  high  wall  pierced  with  a  carriage-gate,  at  the 


56  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

moment  shut,  hid  It  from  one's  eyes,  but  the 
clucking  of  fowls  escaped  from  it,  and  a  dog, 
having  scented  us,  raised  his  voice. 

I  flung  out  a  plummet  at  a  venture : 

"You'll  take  me  over  your  farm,  won't  you?" 

Lerne  shrugged  his  shoulders : 

"Perhaps,"  he  said.  Then  turning  towards  the 
house,  he  shouted: 

"Wilhelm,  Wilhelm!" 

The  German  with  the  face  like  a  sun-dial 
opened  a  little  window  and  the  Professor 
apostrophized  him  in  his  mother-tongue,  so 
violently  that  the  poor  fellow  trembled  all  over. 

"By  Jove!"  I  said  to  myself.  "It's  owing  to 
him  and  his  inadvertence  that  there  are  going 
about  outside  since  last  night,  things  that  should 
not  be  there — that's  certain." 

When  the  execution  was  over,  we  went  round 
the  paddock.  It  contained  a  black  bull  and  four 
cows  of  various  kinds,  the  whole  lot  of  whom,  for 
no  particular  reason,  followed  after  us.  My 
dreadful  relative  began  to  joke : 

"Nicolas,  let  me  introduce  you  to  Jupiter;  and 
here  is  the  white  Europa,  the  dun-colored  lo,  the 
fair-skinned  Athor,  and  Pasiphae  clad  in  her  robe 
of  milk  stained  with  ink,  or  ink  stained  with  milk 
— whichever  way  you  prefer." 

This  reference  to  libertine  mythology  made  me 
smile.    To  tell  the  truth,  I  should  have  seized  the 


AMONG  THE  SPHINXES  57 

first  pretext  to  have  a  laugh;  I  had  physical  need 
of  it.  I  also  felt  a  hunger  so  intense  that  to 
satisfy  it  seemed  the  only  question  of  any  interest. 
The  chateau  was  the  one  and  only  attraction.  It 
was  there  I  should  eat!  And  the  attraction  it 
exercised  on  me  almost  made  me  fail  to  examine 
the  hot-house,  its  neighbor. 

That  would  have  been  a  pity.  They  had  added 
two  halls  of  glass  to  it  which  flanked  the  original 
rotunda  with  their  domed  naves.  Under  its 
lowered  outer  blinds  the  building  seemed  to  me 
to  form  a  whole  that  was  "perfect  of  its  kind." 
It  suggested  something  between  a  Crystal  Palace 
and  a  glass  melon-bell;  it  had  quite  a  grand  and 
out-of-the-way  appearance,  if  I  may  so  say. 

A  hot-house  of  this  kind  in  this  thicket!  I 
should  have  been  less  astonished  to  find  a  love- 
philter  in  a  monastery! 

In  the  days  of  my  late  lamented  aunt,  the  lion- 
room  was  reserved  for  guests.  It  had — it  still 
has — three  windows,  with  deep  recesses  as  deep 
as  alcoves.  One  of  them  looks  out  in  the  direction 
of  the  conservatory  and  has  a  balcony  attached; 
the  second  opens  on  the  park;  I  saw  the  paddock 
from  it  and  further  away  the  pond,  and  between 
the  two  that  summer-house  which  once  was 
Briareus.  The  third  window  faces  the  eastern 
wing;  from  there  I  saw  the  window  of  my  old 


58  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

room — shut — and  the  whole  faqade  of  the 
chateau  blocking  the  view  on  the  left. 

I  felt  as  if  I  were  in  an  hotel.  Nothing  there 
recalled  anything  to  me.  A  Jouy  wall-paper 
stained  with  damp  from  the  wall  and  hanging 
loose  in  one  corner,  covered  the  walls  with  a  host 
of  red  lions  each  with  a  cannon  ball  fixed  under 
its  paw.  The  bed  curtains  and  window  curtains 
showed,  in  distortion,  the  same  subject.  Two  pic- 
tures balanced  one  another:  The  Education  of 
Achilles  and  The  Rape  of  Deianeira,  in  which  the 
damp  spotted  the  faces  of  the  four  subjects  with 
red  and  dappled  the  cruppers  of  the  Centaurs, 
Chiron  and  Nessus;  there  was  also  rather  a  fine 
Norman  clock  which  looked  like  a  coffin  set  on 
end,  the  emblem  and  at  the  same  time  the  meas- 
ures of  Time — and  the  whole  furnishing  of  the 
room  was  commonplace  and  out-of-date. 

I  splashed  my  face  with  cold  water  and  put 
on  clean  linen  with  pleasure.  Barbe  brought  me, 
without  knocking  at  the  door,  a  plate  of  coarse 
broth,  and  made  no  reply  to  my  condolences  on 
her  inflamed  cheek;  then  she  waddled  out  of  the 
room  like  a  gigantic  sylph. 

There  was  no  one  in  the  drawing-room — unless 
shades  are  people.  O  little  black  velvet  arm- 
chair with  your  two  yellow  tassels,  hideous  piece 
of  squat  pufliness,  so  well  termed  a  crapaud,  could 
I  behold  you  again  as  of  yore  without  imagining 


AMONG  THE  SPHINXES  59 

seated  on  your  toad-like  form  the  shade  of  my 
anecdotal  aunt?  And  you,  my  mother's  chair — 
an  austerer  one,  and  one  I  cannot  jest  about — will 
she  not  always  be  in  my  memory  leaning  over 
your  back  as  long  as  you  shall  be  an  armchair, 
if  indeed  you  ever  really  were  one? 

Not  a  detail  was  altered.  From  the  unspeak- 
able white  paper  on  the  walls  down  which  hung 
garlands  of  flowers  trussed  like  sausages,  to  the 
hangings  of  sulphur-colored  damask  draping  their 
fringed  basques  in  a  row,  the  work  of  the  former 
owner — a  contemporary  of  the  crinoline — had 
admirably  stood  the  effect  of  time.  A  swollen 
stuffing  puffed  out  the  sofas  single  and  double, 
and  nothing  had  succeeded  in  deflating  the  in- 
flamed chairs  or  the  blistered  settees. 

From  the  wainscot  smiled  down  on  one  all 
my  dead  and  gone  ancestors :  my  great-great- 
grandfathers in  chalk,  my  grandfathers  in  minia- 
tures, my  father  a  schoolboy  in  daguerrotype ; 
and  on  the  mantelpiece  (duly  petticoated  with 
puffed-out  fringed  flounces)  a  few  photographs 
were  sticking  to  the  mirror.  A  large-sized  group 
claimed  my  attention.  I  took  it  up  to  look  at  it 
more  carefully.  It  represented  my  uncle  sur- 
rounded by  five  gentlemen  and  a  big  St.  Bernard 
dog.  The  group  had  been  taken  at  Fonval;  the 
wall  of  the  chateau  made  the  background,  and  a 
rose-laurel  in  a  tub  figured  in  the  picture.     An 


6o  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

amateur's  work  and  unsigned.  Lerne  beamed 
with  kindness  and  mental  energy,  resembling,  in 
a  word,  the  savant  I  had  expected  to  find.  Of 
the  five  men,  three  were  known  to  me,  the  Ger- 
mans; I  had  never  seen  the  two  others. 

Then  suddenly  the  door  opened  without  my 
having  the  time  to  replace  the  photograph. 
Lerne  was  ushering  in  a  young  woman. 

"My  nephew,  Nicolas  Vermont — Mademoi- 
selle Emma  Bourdichet." 

Mile.  Emma  had  apparently  been  undergoing 
one  of  those  sharp  lectures  that  Lerne  distributed 
so  prodigally.  Her  frightened  expression  showed 
that.  She  had  not  even  the  courage  to  make  the 
conventional  grimace  usual  in  cases  of  constrained 
amiability,  and  merely  made  an  awkward  sort  of 
bow. 

As  for  me,  after  bowing,  I  dared  not  raise  my 
eyes  for  fear  my  uncle  should  read  my  soul  in 
them. 

My  soul?  If  by  soul  one  means  (as  is 
generally  meant)  that  ensemble  of  faculties  which 
result  in  man's  being  a  little  above  the  other  ani- 
mals, I  think  I  had  better  not  compromise  my 
soul  in  this  matter. 

Oh,  I'm  not  unaware  that,  if  all  loves,  even 
the  purest,  are  originally  animal  desires,  esteem 
and  friendship  sometimes  add  themselves  thereto 
to  ennoble  the  relations  of  man  and  woman. 


AMONG  THE  SPHINXES  6i 

Alas!  If  some  Fragonard  wished  to  com- 
memorate our  first  interview  and,  in  the  i8th 
century  manner,  depict  Love  as  presiding  over 
it,  I  should  advise  him  to  study  a  certain  little 
Eros  with  goat's  feet  and  thighs,  a  faun-like 
Cupid  unsmiling  and  wingless;  his  arrows  should 
be  wooden  and  in  a  quiver  made  of  bark,  and 
should  be  dripping  with  blood;  he  might  indeed 
pass  under  the  name  of  Pan.  He  is  Love  uni- 
versal. Pleasure  that  is  unintentionally  fecund, 
the  Master  of  Life  who  takes  equal  heed  of  lairs 
and  eyries,  beasts'  dens  and  bridal  beds. 

Are  there  degrees  of  femininity?  In  that  case, 
I  never  saw  a  woman  who  was  more  a  woman 
than  Emma.  I  shall  not  describe  her,  having 
scarcely  noted  more  in  her  than  an  abstraction 
and  not  an  object.  Was  she  beautiful?  No 
doubt;  most  assuredly  desirable. 

Yet,  I  do  remember  her  hair.  It  had  the  color 
of  fire,  a  dull  red — possibly  dyed — and  the  image 
of  her  body  passes  even  now  through  my  dead 
passion.  It  would  have  put  all  flat-figured  ladies 
to  shame. 

Well,  this  adorable  creature  was  at  the  height 
of  her  charm. 

The  blood  beat  against  my  brain  pan,  and  sud- 
denly a  fierce  jealousy  possessed  me.  In  truth 
I  should  willingly  have  given  up  this  girl,  pro- 
vided no  one  else  should  touch  her  ever.     From 


62  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

unpleasing,  Lerne  now  became  odious  to  me.  I 
should  remain  now — at  any  price. 

Meanwhile  we  did  not  know  what  to  say. 
Thrown  off  my  balance  by  the  suddenness  of  the 
incident,  and  wishing  to  hide  my  confusion,  I 
stuttered  out  anyhow: 

"You  see,  uncle,  I  was  just  looking  at  that 
photograph." 

"Ah,  yes!  Me  and  my  assistants,  Wilhelm, 
Karl,  and  Johann.  And  this  is  Macbeth,  my 
pupil.  It's  very  like  him.  What  do  you  think 
of  it,  Emma?" 

He  had  put  the  photograph  under  his  ward's 
eyes  and  pointed  out  to  her  a  man  close-shavfn 
in  the  American  way,  slim,  short  and  young,  with 
a  distinguished  bearing,  who  had  his  hand  on  the 
back  of  the  St.  Bernard  dog. 

"A  handsome,  intelligent  fellow,  eh?"  said  the 
Professor  in  a  mocking  voice.  "The  ace  of 
Scots!" 

Emma  never  changed  her  look  of  terror.  She 
articulated  with  difficulty: 

"His  Nelly  was  very  amusing  with  her  per- 
forming-dog tricks." 

"And  Macbeth,"  said  my  uncle  in  a  jesting 
voice.     "Was  he  amusing?" 

There  were  symptoms  of  tears  coming,  and  I 
saw  Emma's  chin  quiver.    She  murmured: 

"Poor  Macbeth!" 


AMONG  THE  SPHINXES  63 

"Yes,"  said  Lerne  to  me  by  way  of  answer  to 
my  puzzled  looks,  "Mr,  Donovan  Macbeth  had 
to  give  up  his  duties  as  a  result  of  some  unfortu- 
nate occurrences.  May  Fate  spare  you  such 
unhappiness,  Nicolas!" 

"And  the  other?"  I  asked,  in  order  to  turn  the 
conversation.  "The  other  one,  he  with  the  brown 
mustache  and  whiskers,  who  is  he?" 

"He's  gone,  too." 

"Dr.  Klotz,"  said  Emma,  who  had  drawn  near 
us  and  was  regaining  her  calm.  "Otto  Klotz; 
oh,  as  for  him  .   .   ." 

Lerne  silenced  her  with  a  terrible  look.  I  do 
not  know  what  punishment  she  foresaw,  but  a 
spasm  rendered  the  poor  girl  rigid. 

Hereupon  Barbe  introduced  slantwise  half  of 
her  opulent  form  and  murmured  that  lunch  was 
on  the  table. 

She  had  only  set  three  places  in  the  dining 
room;  the  Germans,  I  fancied,  must  live  in  the 
gray  buildings. 

The  lunch  was  gloomy.  Mile.  Bourdichet 
never  ventured  a  word,  ate  nothing,  and  so  I 
could  not  make  out  what  was  the  matter,  terror 
making  all  creatures  alike. 

Besides,  sleepiness  was  overwhelming  me. 
Immediately  after  dessert  I  asked  leave  to  go 
to  bed,  begging  to  be  allowed  to  sleep  till  the  next 
morning. 


64  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

Once  In  my  room,  I  Immediately  began  to  un- 
dress. To  tell  the  truth  my  journey,  the  night 
and  the  morning  had  worn  me  out.  All  those 
riddles,  too,  worried  me,  first  because  they  were 
riddles  and  then  because  they  presented  themselves 
so  confusedly.  I  felt  as  if  I  were  enveloped  in 
smoke  wherein  riddling  sphinxes  kept  turning 
their  vague  faces  towards  me. 

My  braces  were  just  going  to  be  flung  off — and 
were  not  flung  off. 

In  the  garden  Lerne  was  making  his  way  to- 
wards the  gray  buildings  accompanied  by  his  three 
assistants. 

"They  are  going  to  work  In  there,"  said  I  to 
myself.  "That's  clear.  I  am  not  being  watched; 
they  have  not  had  time  to  take  many  precautions; 
uncle  is  persuaded  I  am  asleep.  Nicolas,  this  is 
the  time  for  action,  now  or  never.  But  what  to 
start  with?  Emma,  or  the  secret?  Hum  .  .  . 
the  little  girl  Is  utterly  gorgonized  to-day.  .  .  . 
As  for  the  secret  .   .   ." 

Having  put  on  my  coat  again,  I  went  mechanic- 
ally from  Mandow  to  window. 

There  between  the  wrought-iron  stanchions  of 
the  balcony  the  Conservatory  showed  its  mysteri- 
ous additions.     It  was  shut,  forbidden,  attractive. 

I  went  out  stealthily  and  noiselessly,  like  a  wolf. 


¥' 


CHAPTER  III 

THE    CONSERVATORY 

Once  outside,  and  without  cover,  it  seemed  to 
me  that  everything  was  spying  on  me;  so  I  flung 
myself  headlong  into  a  little  wood  near  the  con- 
servatory; then  through  the  thorn  and  creepers  I 
made  my  way  towards  my  objective. 

It  was  very  warm.  I  advanced  with  great  diflfi- 
culty  and  taking  thousands  of  precautions  to  avoid 
scratches  and  tell-tale  rents. 

At  last  the  conservatory  with  its  central  dome 
and  one  of  its  bulging  flanks  loomed  large  before 
me.  It  was  a  side  view  that  first  presented  itself. 
I  thought  it  would  be  wise  to  reconnoiter  it  before 
leaving  the  shelter  of  the  wood. 

What  struck  me  immediately  was  its  appear- 
ance of  cleanliness,  its  perfect  upkeep;  not  a 
paving-stone  of  the  encircling  footway  displaced, 
not  a  brick  of  the  foundation  broken ;  the  blinds 
which  were  well  fastened  had  all  their  laths,  and 
in  the  narrow  open  spaces  of  their  shutters  the 
window-panes  flashed  in  the  sun. 

I  listened.  No  sound  came  to  me  from  the 
castle  or  from  the  gray  buildings.    In  the  con- 

65 


66  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

servatory  there  was  complete  silence.  One  heard 
nothing  but  the  vast  hum  of  a  burning  afternoon. 

Then  I  summoned  up  my  courage,  and  ap- 
proaching stealthily,  I  raised  one  of  the  wooden 
sun-blinds  and  tried  to  look  through  the  panes; 
but  I  could  see  nothing;  they  had  been  smeared 
on  the  inside  with  a  whitish  substance.  It  seemed 
more  and  more  probable  that  Lcrne  had  diverted 
the  conservatory  from  its  original  use,  and  now 
abandoned  himself  there  to  any  other  culture  than 
that  of  flowers.  The  idea  of  microbe  broths  sim- 
mering under  the  warm  light  seemed  to  me  quite 
a  happy  inspiration. 

I  moved  round  the  glass  house.  Everywhere 
the  same  stuff  smeared  on  the  window-panes  inter- 
cepted the  view — rather  thick  stuff  it  appeared. 

The  ventilation  windows  stood  open  but  be- 
yond my  reach.  The  wings  had  no  doors,  and  one 
could  not  get  into  the  central  part  from  the  back. 

As  I  kept  moving  round  scrutinizing  the  brick 
and  the  no  less  thick  glass,  I  soon  found  myself 
on  the  chateau  side  opposite  my  balcony.  This 
position  being  unsheltered  was  dangerous.  I 
thought  I  should  have  to  return  to  my  bedroom, 
and  give  up  the  supposed  palace  of  microbes  with- 
out examining  the  front.  I  limited  my  investiga- 
tion therefore  to  a  most  disappointed  glance — a 
glance,  however,  which  suddenly  let  me  know  that 
the  mystery  lay  open  to  me. 


THE  CONSERVATORY  67 

The  door  was  only  pressed  against  the  door- 
post, and  the  bolt  which  was  quite  free  showed 
that  some  careless  person  had  thought  he  had 
barred  the  door  securely.  Oh,  Wilhelm,  you 
priceless  donkey! 

The  moment  I  entered,  my  bacteriological 
hypothesis  was  at  once  destroyed.  A  whiff  of 
floral  perfumes  welcomed  me — a  moist  and  warm 
whiff  with  a  touch  of  nicotine  in  it. 

I  paused  in  wonderment  on  the  threshold. 

No  hot-house — not  even  a  royal  one — has  ever 
given  me  that  impression  of  riotous  luxury  which 
I  at  first  experienced.  In  that  rotunda  in  the 
midst  of  all  those  sumptuous  plants,  the  first  sen- 
sation was  that  of  bedazzlement.  The  whole 
gamut  of  greens  was  played  in  a  chromatic  scale 
on  the  keyboard  of  leaves,  amid  the  multi-colored 
tones  of  flowers  and  fruit,  and  on  tiers  which 
climbed  up  to  the  cupola  those  splendors  surged 
magnificently  upward. 

But  one's  eyes  became  accustomed  to  the  sight, 
and  my  admiration  grew  somewhat  less.  As- 
suredly, however,  for  this  Winter-Garden  to 
arouse  my  admiration  so  immediately,  it  must 
have  been  composed  of  plants  very  remarkable 
in  themselves,  for  in  reality  no  attempt  at  har- 
mony had  brought  about  their  arrangement. 

They  were  grouped  in  disciplinary  order  and 
not  in  accordance  with  a  spirit  of  elegance — like 


68  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

some  Eldorado  confided  to  the  care  of  a 
gendarme.  Their  ranks  separated  themselves 
brutally  from  one  another,  like  so  many  cate- 
gories; the  pots  stood  in  military  array,  and  each 
of  them  bore  a  label,  which  had  to  do  with  botany 
rather  than  with  gardening,  and  gave  evidence 
rather  of  science  than  of  art.  This  circumstance 
gave  one  food  for  meditation.  After  all,  could 
I  admit  for  a  moment  that  Lerne  could  possibly 
do  gardening  for  pleasure? 

Prosecuting  my  researches,  I  let  my  charmed 
eyes  wander  over  all  those  marvels,  incapable  in 
my  ignorance  of  naming  any  of  them.  I  tried  to 
do  so,  however,  mechanically,  and  then  that 
luxuriance,  which  on  a  cursory  general  look  had 
shown  a  sort  of  exotic  character,  began  to  appear 
to  me  as  it  really  was  .  .  . 

Incredulous,  and  a  prey  to  a  fever  of  curiosity, 
I  looked  at  a  cactus. 

In  spite  of  my  want  of  expert  knowledge,  I 
could  not  be  mistaken,  but  its  red  flower  utterly 
puzzled  me.  ...  I  looked  at  it  minutely,  and  my 
perplexity  only  grew. 

There  was  no  possible  doubt:  this  demoniac 
flower  with  its  insolent  look,  this  rocket  which 
soared  up  green  to  break  in  fiery  stars,  was  a 
geranium! 

I  went  on  to  the  next  flower:  three  bamboo 


THE  CONSERVATORY  69 

stalks  rose  out  of  the  soil,  and  capitals  which 
crowned  their  slim  columns  were — dahlias. 

Almost  afraid,  breathing  in  the  unnatural  per- 
fumes in  short  breaths,  I  looked  questioningly  at 
the  place  around  me,  and  its  miracle-like  incoher- 
ence clearly  showed  itself. 

Spring,  Summer,  and  Autumn  reigned  there  in 
company,  and  Lerne  had  doubtless  suppressed 
Winter,  which  extinguishes  flowers  like  flames. 
They  were  all  there,  and  all  fruits  too,  but  neither 
flower  nor  fruit  had  grown  on  its  own  tree! 

A  colony  of  cornflowers  garnished  a  stalk 
ceded  by  moss-roses,  and  which  now  waved  about, 
a  thyrsus  thenceforward  blue.  An  araucaria  un- 
folded at  the  tip  of  its  bristling  branches  the 
indigo-colored  bells  of  the  gentian,  and  along  an 
espalier  among  nasturtium  leaves  and  on  the  loops 
of  its  serpentine  stalk,  camelias  and  parti-colored 
tulips  blossomed  fraternally  together. 

Opposite  the  entrance-door,  a  clump  of  bushes 
rose  up  against  the  glass  wall.  The  shrub  which 
stood  highest  drew  my  attention.  Pears  were 
hanging  from  it,  and  It  was  an  orange  tree  1  Be- 
hind It  two  vine-stocks  with  branches  worthy  of 
the  land  of  Canaan  flung  their  garlands  round  a 
trellis;  their  gigantic  clusters  differed  as  their 
stocks ;  the  one  bore  yellow  fruit,  the  other  purple 
— hut  each  grape  was  a  Mirahelle  plum  or  a 
damson! 


70  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

On  the  twigs  of  a  miniature  oak,  on  which 
several  rebellious  acorns  were  obstinately  form- 
ing, one  beheld  walnuts  and  cherries  rubbing 
shoulders.  One  of  these  fruits  was  an  abortion : 
neither  "chalk  nor  cheese"  it  was  forming  into 
a  glaucous  tumor  streaked  with  pink — a  thing 
monstrous  and  repellant. 

Instead  of  cones,  a  fir  tree  was  dotted  with 
chestnuts  like  shining  stars,  and,  moreover,  it 
flaunted  this  strange  contrast:  the  orange — that 
golden  sun  of  Eastern  orchards — and  the  medlar, 
which  looks  like  a  posthumous  fruit  of  a  tree  that 
has  died  of  cold! 

Not  far  away  there  was  a  throng  of  still  more 
fully  developed  miracles.  Flora  was  elbowing 
Pomona,  as  the  good  Demoustier  would  have 
phrased  it.  Most  of  the  plants  that  formed  this 
crowd  were  strange  to  me,  and  I  only  remember 
the  commoner  ones,  those  that  anybody  knows  the 
list  of,  I  can  still  see  an  astounding  willow  which 
bore  hortensias  and  peonies,  peaches  and  straw- 
berries. But  the  prettiest  of  all  those  hybrids  was 
perhaps  a  rose  tree  with  ox-eyes  for  flowers  and 
crab-apples  for  fruit. 

In  the  center  of  the  rotunda  a  bush  showed  a 
mingling  of  leaves  so  dissimilar  as  those  of  the 
holly,  the  lime  and  the  poplar.  Having  pressed 
them  apart  I  satisfied  myself  that  they  issued  all 
three  from  a  single  stem. 


THE  CONSERVATORY  71 

It  was  the  triumph  of  grafting — a  science  that 
Lerne  had  for  fifteen  years  been  pushing  to  the 
verge  of  the  miraculous,  so  far  indeed  that  the 
results  presented  a  somewhat  disquieting  spec- 
tacle. "When  man  sets  his  hand  to  Life,  he 
makes  monsters."  A  kind  of  uneasiness  troubled 
me. 

"What  right  has  one  to  upset  Creation?"  I  said 
to  myself.  "Should  one  turn  the  ancient  laws 
topsy-turvy?  Can  one  play  this  sacrilegious  game 
without  high  treason  against  Nature?  If  only 
those  artificial  things  had  been  in  good  taste! 
But,  devoid  of  real  novelty,  they  were  merely 
curious  mixtures,  a  sort  of  vegetable  chimeras, 
floral  Fauns,  half  this  and  half  that.  On  my 
honor,  graceful  or  not,  this  kind  of  work  is  im- 
pious, and  that's  the  long  and  the  short  of  it." 

Be  that  as  it  may,  the  Professor  had  toiled  most 
laboriously  to  bring  his  work  to  so  successful  an 
Issue.  The  collection  vouched  for  that,  and  there 
were  other  signs  that  recalled  the  savant's  in- 
dustry: on  a  table  I  perceived  rows  of  bottles  and 
an  array  of  grafting-tools  and  gardening  imple- 
ments which  glittered  like  surgical  instruments. 
This  discovery  sent  me  back  to  the  flowers,  and 
looking  into  the  matter  I  becam.e  aware  of  all 
their  wretchedness. 

They  were  plastered  with  various  sorts  of  gum. 


72  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

bandaged  and  full  of  gashes  which  were  like 
wounds,  out  of  which  oozed  a  suspicious  juice. 

There  was  a  wound  in  the  bark  of  the  pear- 
bearing  orange  tree  that  formed  an  eye  which  was 
slowly  shedding  tears. 

I  was  becoming  quite  nervous.  Would  one 
have  believed  it?  I  was  assailed  by  a  ridiculous 
anguish  as  I  looked  at  the  oak-tree  (which  had 
had  an  operation)  because  I  fancied  the  cherries 
looked  like  drops  of  blood  ...  I  Flop !  flop ! 
Two  ripe  ones  fell  at  my  feet  like  the  first  drops 
of  a  thunder-storm. 

I  was  no  longer  possessed  of  the  calm  neces- 
sary for  reading  the  labels.  They  merely  told 
me  a  few  dates — and  the  fact  that  Lerne  had 
covered  them  with  Franco-German  terms  which 
had  originally  been  illegible,  and  were  rendered 
more  so  by  erasures. 

With  my  ears  on  the  alert,  and  with  my  brow 
in  my  hands,  I  had  to  take  a  moment's  respite 
in  order  to  gather  my  wits  together,  and  then  I 
opened  the  door  of  the  right  wing. 

A  little  nave,  as  it  were,  stretched  out  before 
me.  Its  glass  vault  filtered  the  daylight  and 
attenuated  it  to  a  bluish  and  refreshingly  cool  half- 
light.     My  steps  rang  out  on  the  flagstones. 

In  this  chamber  there  gleamed  three  aquariums, 
three  tanks  of  glass,  so  pure  that  the  water  seemed 


THE  CONSERVATORY  73 

to  be  standing  of  Itself  In  three  geometrical 
blocks. 

The  aquariums  on  the  two  sides  of  the  hall 
held  marine  plants  which  did  not  seem  to  differ 
much  one  from  the  other.  However,  the  rotunda 
had  taught  me  with  what  method  Lerne  classified 
everything,  and  I  could  not  believe  that  he  had 
separated  into  two  tanks  things  absolutely  identi- 
cal.    So  I  watched  the  sea-weeds  attentively. 

Their  tufts,  on  both  sides  of  the  place,  formed 
the  same  submarine  landscape.  On  the  right,  as 
on  the  left,  arborescences  of  every  color  had  fixed 
their  rigid  and  bifurcated  stems  on  the  rocks;  the 
sandy  bottom  was  sprinkled  with  stars  like  edel- 
weiss, and  here  and  there  sprung  up  sheaves  of 
chalky  rods,  at  the  end  of  each  of  which  a  sort 
of  fleshy  chrysanthemum  unfolded  itself  like  a 
yellow  or  a  violet  flower.  I  cannot  describe  the 
host  of  other  corolla;  they  often  resembled  oily 
calices  of  wax  or  of  gelatine ;  most  of  them  showed 
an  indefinable  color  in  a  vague  outline,  and  some- 
times they  had  no  edges  and  were  mere  nuances 
In  the  midst  of  the  water. 

Bubbles  escaped  in  thousands  from  an  Inside 
tap,  and  their  tumultuous  pearls  raced  madly  along 
the  foliage  before  they  rose  to  burst  on  the  sur- 
face. One  would  have  thought,  seeing  them,  that 
that  aquatic  garden  had  always  to  be  drenched 
with  air. 


74  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD  . 

Recalling  my  schoolboy  memories  I  grasped 
that  the  two  sets  of  flowering  things — differing 
merely  in  detail — were  exclusively  composed  of 
polypi,  those  ambiguous  creatures,  such  as  coral 
or  sponge,  which  the  naturalist  interpolates  be- 
tween vegetables  and  animals. 

Their  peculiar  ambiguity  is  never  devoid  of 
interest.     I  tapped  the  left-hand  trough. 

Immediately  an  unexpected  thing  moved  before 
me  swimming  by  means  of  contraction;  it  was 
like  an  opaline  Venetian  goblet  which  had  re- 
mained malleable;  a  second  crossed  over  the  first; 
they  were  two  jelly-fish.  Meanwhile  the  tapping 
of  my  fingers  had  set  other  things  moving.  The 
yellow  and  purple  tufts  of  the  anemones  went 
back  into  their  calcareous  sheaths,  then  rhythmic- 
ally unfolding,  emerged  again;  the  rays  of  the 
star-fish  and  sea-urchins  stirred  lazily;  grays  and 
reds  and  saffrons  swayed  about,  and,  as  if  under 
the  influence  of  an  eddy  the  whole  aquarium 
became  alive. 

I  tapped  on  the  right-hand  trough.  Nothing 
budged. 

This  was  proof  positive;  this  separation  of  the 
polypi  into  two  receptacles  gave  me  a  clearer 
understanding  of  the  connection  which,  joining 
the  animal  and  the  vegetable,  makes  man  akin  to 
the  blade  of  grass.  At  this  meeting-place  of  the 
two   organized  kingdoms,   the   creatures   on   the 


THE  CONSERVATORY  75 

left — active —  were  at  the  foot  of  their  scale,  and 
those  on  the  right — inactive — at  the  top  of  theirs; 
the  former  were  on  the  way  to  becoming  beasts, 
the  latter  had  finished  being  plants. 

Thus,  the  gulf  which  seems  to  separate  those 
two  extreme  poles  in  the  world  is  reduced,  as  far 
as  structure  goes,  to  slight  divergences,  almost 
invisible — a  less  striking  difference  than  that  be- 
tween the  wolf  and  the  fox  which  are,  however, 
brothers. 

Now,  this  infinitesimal  difference  in  organiza- 
tion whirh  Science,  however,  regards  as  unsur- 
mountable,  since  it  separates  inertia  from  spon- 
taneous movement — this  difference  Lerne  had 
bridged!  In  the  basin  at  the  end  of  the  room, 
the  two  species  were  grafted  on  to  one  another. 
I  noted  there  a  gelatinous  sort  of  leaf  of  the 
immobile  order,  grafted  on  to  a  mobile  stem,  and 
now  moving  about  too.  The  grafts  adopted  the 
condition  of  the  plant  into  which  they  were  in- 
serted; penetrated  with  a  life-giving  juice,  their 
indifference  changed  to  animation,  and  the 
activity  of  the  other  was  paralyzed  through  suck- 
ing in  the  ankylosis. 

I  would  willingly  have  passed  in  review  the 
various  applications  of  this  principle;  but  a 
medusa  tied  with  a  hundred  knots  to  sonie  sea- 
weed or  other  struggled  violently  in  its  mossy  net, 
and  I  turned  away  in  disgust. 


76  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

This  last  stage  in  grafting  in  spite  of  diiSculties 
completed  the  profanation  in  my  eyes,  and  I  looked 
away  into  the  blue  shadow  for  less  disagreeable 
sights. 

The  Professor's  apparatus  stood  ready  for  him. 
There  was  a  whole  chemist's  shop  on  a  dresser. 
Four  tables  with  clear  glass  tops  alternated  with 
the  aquariums,  and  bore  on  them  an  arsenal  of 
knives,  pincers  and  tweezers. 

No !  Lerne  had  no  right  to  do  this !  It  was 
as  infamous  as  a  butchery!  More  so  indeed! 
And  his  odious  performances  on  virgin  Nature  of- 
fered at  one  and  the  same  time  the  horror  of  a 
murder  and  the  ignominy  of  a  violation ! 

As  I  was  yielding  to  this  righteous  indignation, 
a  noise  arose.     Some  one  was  knocking. 

Ah!  my  hell  beyond  the  grave  will  be  to  hear 
that  little  insignificant  tapping.  In  a  flash  I  felt 
every  nerve  in  my  body.    Some  one  was  knocking ! 

In  a  bound  I  was  in  the  rotunda,  and  my  face 
must  have  been  terrible  to  see,  for  instinctively 
the  dread  of  an  adversary  made  me  assume  a  look 
of  ferocity. 

Nobody  on  the  doorstep — nobody  in  the  park 
— I  went  in  again. 

The  noise  began  once  more.  It  was  coming 
from  the  yet  unexplored  wing.  Losing  my  head, 
I  dashed  towards  it  without  realizing  my  rashness, 
or  the  risk  of  finding  myself  face  to  face  with  the 


THE  CONSERVATORY  77 

danger,  and  so  excited,  that  I  banged  my  head 
against  the  door,  as  I  opened  it  with  a  violent 
pull. 

Nervous  exhaustion  had  brought  me  down  to 
this  condition  of  weakness.  And  I  ask  myself  to- 
day whether  it  had  not  to  some  extent  given  me 
hallucinations  and  made  me  fancy  things  to  be 
more  bizarre  than  they  really  were. 

An  intense  light  flooded  the  third  hall  and 
helped  me  at  once  to  recover  my  assurance.  On 
a  dresser  there  was  a  cage  upside  down  which  was 
knocking  about  with  a  rat  inside  it,  as  in  a  prison. 
When  the  rat  jumped,  the  cage  jumped;  hence  the 
noise.  At  the  sight  of  me,  the  rodent  became 
quiet.  I  attached  no  importance  to  this  little 
episode. 

This  place,  which  was  less  orderly  than  the 
others,  looked  like  an  ill-kept  hot-house.  But 
towels  stained  with  blood  and  thrown  on  the 
ground,  lancets  lying  anyhow  among  half  empty 
test-tubes,  all  this  told  of  recent  work  and  might 
serve  as  an  excuse  for  the  confusion. 

I  began  my  investigation. 

The  first  two  witnesses  to  appear  did  not  give 
me  much  information.  These  were  some  very 
humble  plants  in  their  china  pots.  Their  names 
in  1(771  or  lis  have  gone  from  my  memory,  a  thing  I 
deplore,  for  they  would  give  my  tale  more  authori- 
tativeness,  and  more  resonance.     But  who,  at  the 


78  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

mention  of  their  ordinary  names,  could  fall  to 
represent  to  himself  a  tuft  of  plantain  and  a  tuft 
of  hare's-ear? 

The  former  was,  It  Is  true,  of  an  exceptionally 
long  and  supple  sort.  As  for  the  latter,  It  had 
nothing  distinctive  about  It,  and,  like  Its  fellows,  it 
conscientiously  counterfeited  a  dozen  great  ear- 
lobes.  On  two  of  Its  hairy,  silvery  leaves  and  on 
one  of  the  twigs  of  the  plantain  below  It,  a 
bandage  showed  like  a  bracelet  of  white  cloth 
which  tar  (apparently)  stained  brown. 

I  sighed  a  sigh  of  relief.  "Good,"  said  I  to 
myself,  "Lerne  has  inoculated  them.  This  is  only 
a  repetition  of  what  I  have  already  seen,  or  rather 
an  early,  timid  and  simple  essay,  a  stage  on  the 
road  to  the  rotunda,  as  it  Is  a  stage  on  the  way  to 
the  atrocities  of  the  aquarium.  I  might  have  be- 
gun here,  gone  on  to  the  central  garden  of  Eden, 
and  finished  off  by  the  polypi.  Thank  God,  I 
have  seen  the  worst." 

So  ran  my  thoughts,  when  the  twig  of  the  plan' 
tain  twisted  about  like  a  worm! 

At  the  same  time  a  mass  of  shining  gray  gave 
a  jump  which  betrayed  its  presence  behind  the 
dresser.  There  lay  in  the  midst  of  a  pool  of 
blood  a  rabbit  with  silvery  fur.  It  had  just  ex- 
pired, and  had  nothing  in  the  way  of  ears  hut  two 
bleeding  holes. 

The  presentiment  of  the  reality  made  me  break 


THE  CONSERVATORY  79 

out  into  a  sweat.  It  was  then  I  touched  the  hairy 
plant.  Having  felt  the  two  grafted  leaves  like 
ears,  I  perceived  they  were  hot  and  quivering. 

A  recoil  sent  me  up  against  the  dresser.  My 
hand  stiff  with  disgust  tried  to  shake  off  the  feel- 
ing of  that  contact  as  it  would  that  of  a  hideous 
spider;  it  knocked  violently  against  the  rat's  cage, 
which  fell. 

At  once  the  rat  bounded  towards  the  middle  of 
its  cage,  biting  and  rolling  about  with  mad  fury 
.  .  ,  and  my  staring  eyes  went  continually  from 
the  plantain  to  the  animal,  from  the  twig  quiver- 
ing like  a  thin  black  snake  to  the  rat  which  had  no 
tail. 

Its  wound  had  healed,  but  the  poor  beast  bore 
traces  of  another  experiment  which  it  dragged 
about  in  its  somersaults — a  sort  of  loosened 
girdle,  which  still,  however,  kept  fixed  in  its  place 
a  piece  of  greenery  that  had  been  inserted  into  its 
slashed  flank! 

This  growth  seemed  to  me  to  have  withered. 
So  Lerne  was  mounting  the  scale  of  Being.  He 
was  now  grafting  together  the  higher  animals  and 
all  kinds  of  plants!  Infamous  and  great,  my 
uncle  inspired  me  with  disgust  and  admiration, 
such  as  one  might  feel  for  a  maleficient  deity. 

His  works,  however,  seemed  to  me  less  esti- 
mable than  repulsive,  and  I  had  to  do  violence  to 
myself  to  force  myself  to  prolong  my  visit. 


So  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

It  was  worth  it,  even  if  it  was  merely  a  figment 
of  the  brain.  What  remained  for  me  to  learn 
surpasses  the  nightmare  of  a  madman.  Fright- 
ful, assuredly,  but  comic  too  in  a  way — grotesque, 
sinister. 

Which  of  the  sufferers  inspired  most  horror? 
The  guinea-pig,  the  frog  or  the  trees? 

The  guinea-pig,  perhaps  was  the  least  extraor- 
dinary. Its  pelt  may  have  been  green  only  as  the 
result  of  the  green  reflection  from  all  those 
plants.     That  may  be  so. 

But  the  frog!  But  the  trees!  What  was  one 
to  think  of  themf 

The  frog  was  green  as  grass  and  had  all  its 
four  legs  forced  into  the  soil,  planted  in  the  middle 
of  a  pot  like  a  vegetable  with  four  roots,  its  eye- 
lids closed,  its  aspect  dull  and  mournful. 

As  for  the  date  trees — at  first  they  had  given  no 
sign  of  motion,  and  I  am  certain  there  was  no 
wind  blowing — then,  when  they  did  move,  it  was 
in  all  directions.  Their  leaves  swayed  very  gently 
— I  thought  I  heard  something,  but  I  could  not 
swear  to  it — yes,  the  trees  swayed  and  came  closer 
at  every  moment;  suddenly  they  gripped  one  an- 
other with  all  their  green  fingers  and  embraced 
convulsively.  Was  it  in  wrath  or  in  lust?  For 
battle  or  for  love?  I  know  not.  The  gestures 
are  much  alike. 

Beside  the  frog  a  vase  of  white  porcelain  was 


THE  CONSERVATORY  8i 

full  of  a  colorless  liquid  in  which  was  steeped  a 
Pravoz  syringe.  A  similar  vase  and  syringe  had 
been  placed  near  the  trees,  but  here  the  liquid  was 
brown  and  curdling.  I  concluded  that  they  were 
sap  and  blood. 

The  date  trees  had  let  go  of  each  other,  and 
my  trembling  hand  advanced  towards  them.  I 
could  feel,  under  the  soft  warm  bark  pulse-beats 
that  made  it  rise  and  fall  with  rhythmical  cadence. 

Since  then  I  have  said  to  myself  that  one  may 
feel  ones  own  pulse  when  feeling  that  of  others, 
and  I  was  doubtless  feverish;  but  at  the  moment 
could  I  doubt  my  senses?  .  .  .  Besides,  what  fol- 
lows in  no  wise  impeaches  my  lucidity  then;  it 
would  on  the  contrary  plead  in  its  favor.  I  do 
not  know  whether  intensity  of  recollection  in  a 
doubtful  case  of  hallucination  is  an  argument  for 
or  against  a  morbid  state;  but  at  any  rate  I  re- 
member very  intensely  the  picture  of  those  mon- 
strosities rising  out  of  the  medley  of  linen  wrap- 
pings and  bottles  among  the  scattered  instruments 
of  steel. 

Was  there  nothing  more  to  see?  I  rummaged 
in  the  corners — no,  nothing  more.  I  had  fol- 
lowed step  by  step  my  uncle's  work  and  in  the 
rational  order  of  their  ascending  scale. 

I  got  back  to  the  chateau  without  let  or  hin- 
drance and  regained  my  bedroom.  There  the 
hectic  vigor  which  had  been  supporting  me  quite 


82  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

failed  me.  Vainly  I  tried,  as  I  undressed,  to  re- 
capitulate my  campaign.  It  was  already  assum- 
ing the  appearance  of  a  bad  dream  and  I  no  longer 
believed  in  it.  Could  the  vegetable  kingdom 
really  mingle  with  the  animal?  What  an  absurd- 
ity! If  plant-polypi  are  almost  animal-polypi, 
what  can  an  insect  and  a  leaf,  for  example,  have 
in  common?  Then  I  felt  a  sharp  pain  in  the 
thumb  of  my  right  hand:  a  little  white  pustle 
ringed  with  pink  was  budding  there.  In  my  jour- 
ney through  the  woods  something  had  stung  me. 
But  I  was  unable  to  say  whether  it  was  the  ven- 
geance of  a  nettle  or  of  an  ant.  This  made  me 
feel  the  possibilities  of  things,  and  that  I  had  not 
to  accept  them  as  having  been  realized  by  my 
uncle.      My  reflections  were  as  follows : — 

"To  sum  up,  Lerne  has  tried  to  amalgamate 
vegetables  and  animals,  and  to  make  them  ex- 
change their  vitalities.  His  methods,  judiciously 
progressive,  have  succeeded.  But  are  they  aims 
in  themselves,  or  only  a  means  to  something  else? 
What  is  he  trying  to  reach?  I  cannot  see  how 
those  experiments  can  have  practical  applications 
that  a  financier  might  exploit.  So,  they  are  not 
ends  in  themselves.  It  seems  to  me  that  they  tend 
to  something  more  perfect  which  I  can  vaguely  di- 
vine without  fully  perceiving.  My  head  is  full  of 
woolly  headache — Come,  let  me  see !  .  .  .  Per- 
haps the  Professor  is  carrying  on  at  the  same  time 


IHE  CONSERVATORY  83 

other  researches  converging  to  the  same  point  as 
these,  a  knowledge  of  which  would  make  the  final 
object  clear.  Come,  come !  Logic,  logic.  On 
the  one  hand.  .  .  .  Oh,  Lord  I  am  tired — On  the 
one  hand  I  have  seen  vegetables  grafted  together, 
on  the  other  hand  my  uncle  has  begun  mixing  up 
plants  and  beasts  .   .   .   ah,  I  give  it  up." 

My  exhausted  mind  refused  to  reason  any  more. 
I  saw  in  a  confused  way  that  in  his  study  of  graft- 
ing he  had  neglected  a  whole  branch  of  the  subject, 
or  at  least  that  the  hot-house  was  not  its  theater. 
My  eyelids  grew  heavy.  The  more  I  tried  to  in- 
duce or  deduce  the  more  I  got  confused.  The  ap- 
parition of  the  preceding  night,  the  gray  buildings, 
and  Emma  came  to  aggravate  my  distraught  con- 
dition with  anxiety,  curiosity  and  desire.  In 
short,  never  had  a  feather  pillow  been  the  haunt 
of  such  a  welter  of  ideas. 

A  riddle ! 

Yes,  Indeed,  a  riddle !  And  yet,  though  the 
sphinxes  were  all  round  me,  through  the  dim 
vapor  which  was  now  less  thick  I  clearly  distin- 
guished them.  And  as  one  of  them  had  a  pleasing 
face  and  a  youthful  figure,  I  fell  asleep  smiling. 


CHAPTER  IV 

HOT  AND  COLD 

Qui  dort  dine.  My  slumber  lasted  till  the  next 
morning. 

And  yet  I  never  rested  so  ill.  The  bruised 
feeling  caused  by  a  day  spent  in  a  motor-car  came 
over  my  loin-muscles,  and  for  long  I  felt  in  them 
the  ricochets  of  ghostly  jolts  and  the  twists  of 
spectral  skids.  Then  I  was  visited  by  dreams  in 
which  a  world  of  miracle  came  to  life.  Broce- 
liande,  the  Shakespearean  forest,  began  to  move ; 
In  the  press  of  it  trees  walked  along  arm  in  arm; 
a  birch  tree  which  looked  like  a  lance  made  me  a 
speech  in  German,  and  I  could  hardly  hear  it,  for 
many  of  the  flowers  were  singing,  plants  yelped  in- 
sistently, and  great  trees  every  now  and  then 
howled  aloud. 

On  my  awakening,  I  remembered  this  hulla- 
baloo with  a  phonographic  exactitude — so  much 
so,  that  I  was  alarmed  about  it,  and  I  was  angry 
with  myself  for  not  having  made  a  full  examina- 
tion of  the  conservatory;  a  less  hasty  and  calmer 
study  of  it  would  doubtless  have  enlightened  me. 
I  severely  condemned  my  undue  haste  and  my 

84 


HOT  AND  COLD  8^ 

nervous  condition  of  the  day  before.  But  why 
not  make  up  for  it?     Perhaps  it  was  not  too  late? 

With  my  hands  behind  my  back,  and  a  cigarette 
between  my  lips,  with  no  particular  aim  in  my 
steps,  I  passed  in  front  of  the  conservatory,  as  if 
I  were  merely  taking  a  stroll. 

It  was  locked. 

So,  I  had  missed  the  one  chance  of  learning  the 
truth,  yes,  I  felt,  the  one  and  only  chance.  Oh, 
donkey,  donkey ! 

In  order  not  to  arouse  suspicion,  I  had  passed 
the  forbidden  place  without  pausing,  and  now  an 
avenue  led  me  towards  the  gray  buildings. 
Through  the  grass  which  covered  It,  a  beaten  path 
bore  witness  to  frequent  passings  to  and  fro. 

After  following  the  track  for  some  time,  I  saw 
my  uncle  coming  to  meet  me.  No  doubt  he  had 
been  on  the  watch  for  my  coming  out.  He  was 
quite  cheery.  His  discolored  countenance,  when 
he  smiled,  was  now  like  his  young  face  of  long  ago. 
This  affable  expression  restored  my  equanimity. 
My  escapade  had  passed  unpercelved. 

"Well,  my  boy,"  said  he  In  almost  a  friendly 
way,  *'I  bet  you  are  of  my  way  of  thinking.  It 
is  not  a  cheerful  place.  You  will  soon  be  weary 
of  your  sentimental  sojourn  at  the  bottom  of  this 
stewpan  1" 

"Oh,  uncle,  I  have  always  loved  Fonval,  not 
for  the  scenery,  but  as  a  venerable  friend,  an  an- 


86  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD    . 

cestor,  if  you  like.  It  is  one  of  the  family.  I 
have  often  played,  you  know,  on  its  lawns  and 
among  the  branches  of  its  trees;  it's  a  godfather 
that  has  dandled  me  on  its  knee — like — like  you, 
uncle." 

"Yes,  yes,"  said  Lerne  evasively.  "All  the 
same  you  will  soon  have  had  enough  of  it." 

"Not  at  all.  The  park  of  Fonval  is  my  earthly 
paradise." 

"There  you  are  right.  It's  just  that,"  he  said 
laughingly,  "the  forbidden  tree  grows  in  its  in- 
closure.  Every  hour  you  will  come  up  against 
the  Tree  of  Life,  and  the  Tree  of  Knowledge 
which  you  must  not  touch.  It's  dangerous.  In 
your  position  I  should  go  out  for  a  run  in  your 
mechanical  carriage.  Oh,  if  Adam  had  only  had 
a  mechanical  carriage !" 

"But,  uncle,  there  is  the  labyrinth!" 

"Oh,"  cried  the  Professor  gayly,  "I'll  accom- 
pany you  and  guide  you.  Besides  I  am  anxious 
to  see  one  of  those  what  d'-you-call-ems  working." 

"Automobile,  uncle." 

"Ah,  yes,  automobile,"  and  his  Teutonic  accent 
gave  the  word,  which  is  a  slow-moving  one  as  it  is, 
an  amplitude,  a  weight,  a  monumental  immobility. 

We  were  going  side  by  side  towards  the  coach- 
house. There  was  no  denying  that  my  uncle  had 
made  up  his  mind  to  endure  my  intrusion  with 
courage.    Nevertheless  his  persistent  good  temper 


HOT  AND  COLD  87 

only  vexed  me.  My  projects  of  Indiscretion 
seemed  less  legitimate  to  me.  Perhaps  I  should 
have  abandoned  them  altogether  at  that  moment, 
had  not  my  desire  for  Emma  driven  me  to  wish 
ill  to  her  despotic  jailor.  Besides,  was  he  sincere  ? 
And  was  It  not  merely  to  Incite  me  to  keep  my 
plighted  word  that  he  said  to  me  on  arriving  at 
the  Improvised  garage : 

"Nicolas,  I  have  reflected  a  great  deal.  I 
really  do  think  you  might  be  very  useful  to  us  In 
the  future,  and  I  desire  your  further  acquaintance. 
Since  you  want  to  remain  here  for  some  days,  we 
shall  often  have  talks.  In  the  mornings  I  do  not 
work  much ;  we  shall  employ  them  in  going  about 
either  on  foot,  or  In  your  car,  and  in  conversation. 
But  don't  forget  your  promises." 

I  nodded  assent.  "After  all,"  thought  I,  "it 
really  seems  as  if  he  wanted  one  day  to  publish  the 
solution  to  the  problem.  Why  should  it  not  be 
legitimate  enough,  though  the  operations  that  are 
to  procure  it  are  not  so?  It's  them  he  wishes  to 
hide  until  the  result  comes;  he  expects  the  eclat  of 
the  latter  to  excuse  the  barbarity  of  the  former 
and  to  obtain  his  pardon — if  only  the  end  does  not 
betray  the  means,  and  the  means  can  remain  for- 
ever unknown.  On  the  other  hand,  might  Lerne 
not  be  afraid  of  competition?     Why  not?" 

I  was  ruminating  on  all  this  as  I  emptied  a  little 
tin  of  petrol  into  the  tank  of  my  excellent  car,  a 


88  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

tin  which  propitious  Chance  had  allowed  me  to 
find  in  the  boot. 

Lerne  got  in  beside  me.  He  pointed  out  to 
me  a  straight  road  that  skirted  a  cliff  of  the  defile, 
a  surreptitious  cross-road  ingeniously  concealed. 
I  was  astonished  at  first  that  my  uncle  should  have 
pointed  out  this  short  cut  to  me,  but,  after  all,  was 
he  not  showing  me  how  to  get  away,  and  was  not 
this  au  fond  what  he  most  desired? 

Oh,  the  dear  uncle  !  He  must  have  lived  a  very 
secluded  or  very  absorbed  life,  for  he  was  patheti- 
cally ignorant  of  all  that  concerns  motor-cars. 
His  was  the  sort  of  ignorance  savants  have  with 
regard  to  sciences  in  which  they  are  not  specialists. 
My  physiologist  was  not  strong  on  the  subject  of 
mechanics.  He  hardly  suspected  the  principle  of 
this  docile,  supple,  silent  and  speedy  engine  of 
locomotion  which  roused  his  enthusiasm. 

At  the  edge  of  the  forest : 

"Let  us  stop  here,  please,"  said  he.  "You 
must  explain  this  machine  to  me.  This  is  where 
I  usually  end  my  walks.  I  am  an  old  eccentric. 
You  shall  go  on  by  yourself  afterwards,  if  you 
like." 

I  began  my  demonstration,  and  I  perceived  that 
the  hooter,  only  slightly  damaged,  could  be  re- 
paired in  a  turn  of  the  hand.  Two  screws  and  a 
piece  of  wire  restored  its  deafening  power. 
Lerne,  at  the  sound  of  it,  beamed  with  ingenuous 


HOT  AND  COLD  89 

delight.  I  went  on  with  my  lecture,  and  as  I 
talked,  my  uncle  listened  to  me  with  increasing 
attention. 

In  truth  the  thing  deserved  attentive  interest. 
During  the  preceding  three  years,  if  motor  engines 
had  but  little  changed  in  the  essentials  of  their 
structure  and  in  that  of  their  principal  organs,  fit- 
tings on  the  other  hand  had  progressed,  and  the 
materials  employed  were  employed  more  judici- 
ously. Thus,  in  the  construction  of  my  car, 
whose  only  woodwork  was  the  racing-seats,  no 
wood  had  been  employed.  My  80  horse-power 
affair  formed  a  little  luxurious  and  neatly  fur- 
nished workshop  all  of  cast  iron  and  steel,  of 
copper  and  aluminum.  The  great  invention  of 
the  day  had  been  applied  to  it — I  mean  that  it  did 
not  rest  on  four  pneumatic  tires,  but  on  spring- 
wheels  which  were  wonderfully  elastic.  Nowa- 
days that  seems  quite  a  matter  of  course;  but  a 
year  ago  my  iron  fellies  caused  much  surprise. 

But  the  most  remarkable  thing  about  my  234- 
XY,  when  you  come  to  think  of  it,  was,  I  think, 
that  improvement  which  engineers  obtained  so 
slowly  that  one  did  not  see  it  growing  day  by  day 
— I  mean  its  automatism. 

The  first  horseless  machine  was  encumbered 
with  levers,  pedals,  handles  and  wheels  necessary 
for  Its  guidance,  and  with  taps  and  grease-valves 
to  turn,  which  were  Indispensable  for  the  func- 


90  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

tioning  of  the  engine.  Now,  each  generation  of 
motor-cars  has  dispensed  with  these  more  and 
more  completely.  One  by  one,  almost  all  those 
handles  have  disappeared  which  require  the  in- 
cessant intervention  of  man.  In  our  days,  by 
means  of  its  organs  which  have  become  automatic, 
the  mechanism  controls  the  mechanism.  A  chauf- 
feur is  no  more  than  a  pilot;  once  going,  his  ma- 
chine keeps  up  its  own  energy;  once  awake,  it  will 
only  fall  asleep  again  at  the  word  of  command. 
In  short,  as  Lerne  bade  me  note,  the  modern 
motor-car  enjoys  properties  that  a  spinal  cord 
might  confer;  it  enjoys  instinct  and  reflex  actions. 
Spontaneous  movements  take  place  in  it  along 
with  the  voluntary  movements  caused  by  the  in- 
telligence of  the  driver,  who  becomes  as  it  were 
the  brain  of  the  vehicle.  It  is  from  this  intelli- 
gence that  the  orders  for  definite  actions  go,  trans- 
mitted by  the  metallic  nerves  to  the  steel  muscles. 

"Moreover,"  said  my  uncle,  "the  resemblance 
between  this  machine  and  the  body  of  a  vertebrate 
animal  is  striking." 

Here  Lerne  was  entering  his  own  domain.  I 
lent  an  attentive  ear,  and  he  went  on  : 

"We  have  here  the  nervous  and  muscular  sys- 
tems represented  by  the  striker-rods,  the  driving- 
gear  and  the  cranks.  And  the  chassis,  Nicolas, 
what  is  it  but  the  skeleton  into  which  the  tenants 
insert  themselves  like  tendons?     Blood,  the  vital 


HOT  AND  COLD  91 

element,  circulates  in  those  copper  arteries  in  the 
form  of  petrol.  The  carburetor  breathes;  it's  a 
lung;  instead  of  combining  air  with  blood,  it 
mixes  it  with  the  vapor  of  the  petrol,  that's  all  I 
This  hood  resembles  a  thorax  in  which  life  beats 
rhythmically — our  joints  move  In  the  syyiovia  as 
those  swivel-joints  in  oil.  Under  the  shelter  of 
the  resisting  skin  of  the  case  Is  the  tank,  a  stomach 
that  grows  hungry  and  is  replenished.  Here, 
phosphorescent  like  those  of  cats,  but  as  yet  void 
of  sight,  are  eyes,  its  lamps;  its  voice  Is  the  hooter; 
and — but  I  need  not  go  into  further  details.  In 
a  word,  Nicolas,  the  only  thing  wanting  to  your 
car  Is  brain,  which  you  sometimes  supply;  having 
that  It  would  become  a  great  deaf  beast,  blind, 
insensitive  and  sterile,  without  the  sense  of  taste 
or  of  smell." 

"A  regular  collection  of  infirmities,"  I  said, 
bursting  Into  a  loud  laugh. 

"Hum!"  rejoined  Lerne,  "in  other  respects  the 
motor-car  is  better  off  than  we.  Think  how  the 
water  cools  it ;  what  a  remedy  against  fever !  And 
then  what  a  time  the  engine  can  last,  if  it  is  wisely 
used!  It  can  be  mended  indefinitely — it  can  al- 
ways be  cured;  have  you  not  just  restored  speech 
to  its  maw?  You  could  replace  an  eye  just  as 
easily!" 

The  Professor  was  getting  excited : 

"It's  a  powerful  and  terrible  body,"  he  cried, 


92  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

"but  a  body  that  allows  itself  to  be  clothed — It 
has  armor  which  increases  the  power  of  the  wearer 
beyond  all  expectation,  a  cuirass  that  multiplies  its 
force  and  speed.  Why,  you  inside  it  are  like  the 
Maritans  of  Mr.  Wells  in  their  tripod  cylinders! 
You  are  nothing  but  the  brain  of  an  artificial 
monster  that  it  makes  one  giddy  to  think  of." 

"All  machines  are  like  that,  uncle." 

"No.  Not  so  completely.  But  for  the  form 
(which  no  animal  resembles  of  course)  the  auto- 
mobile is  the  most  congruous  automaton  ever 
contrived.  It  is  more  made  in  our  image  than 
the  best  mannikin  wound  up  by  a  key,  the  most 
human  of  puppets.  For  under  their  anthropo- 
morphic envelope  those  mannikins  hide  a  mere 
roasting-jack  organism,  which  one  would  not  com- 
pare with  the  anatomy  of  a  snail.  Whereas 
here  ..." 

Hei  drew  back  a  step  and  regarded  my  car  with 
a  look  of  tenderness: 

"What  a  superb  creature,"  he  exclaimed,  "and 
how  great  is  man !" 

"Yes,"  said  I  to  myself,  "there  is  a  deal  more 
beauty  in  a  thing  we  create,  than  in  all  your  sinister 
joining  of  flesh  and  wood  that  are  both  from  of 
old.  But  it's  not  bad  on  your  part  to  have  ad- 
mitted It." 

Though  It  was  late,  I  went  on  to  Grey-1  'Abbaye 
to  replenish  my  stock  of  petrol,  and  though  he  was 


HOT  AND  COLD  93 

a  creature  of  routine,  Lerne,  infatuated  with  auto- 
mobilism,  passed  beyond  the  traditional  limit  of 
his  walks  and  insisted  on  accompanying  me. 

Then  we  resumed  the  way  to  Fonval.  My 
uncle,  with  all  the  ardor  of  a  neophyte,  bent  over 
the  bonnet  In  order  to  listen  to  the  pulsations 
within  the  metal  frame,  then  he  took  to  pieces  one 
of  the  oil-valves.  All  the  time  he  kept  question- 
ing me,  and  I  had  to  inform  him  of  the  smallest 
details  of  my  car,  details  which  he  assimilated 
with  an  incredible  accuracy. 

"I  say,  Nicolas,  sound  the  hooter,  will  you? 
Now — go  slow — stop — start  again — quicker — 
that  will  do — put  on  the  brake — back  now — stop 
— it's  colossal!" 

He  was  laughing.  His  cloudy  face  seemed  al- 
most beautified.  Seeing  us  one  would  have  said 
we  were  excellent  friends.  In  fact  we  were  so 
then  perhaps.  And  I  fancied  that  perhaps, 
thanks  to  my  "two-seater,"  Lerne  might  one  day 
confide  in  me. 

He  preserved  this  gayety  till  our  return  to  the 
chateau;  the  proximity  of  the  mysterious  work- 
shop did  not  affect  it;  it  only  disappeared  in  the 
dining  room.  Then  suddenly  Lerne's  brow 
darkened.  Emma  had  just  come  in.  And  the 
husband  of  my  aunt  Lidivine  seemed  to  have  ef- 
faced  himself   with    my   uncle's    smile,    only    an 


94  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

Irritable  old  savant  remaining  between  his  two 
guests.  I  then  felt  how  little  his  future  discov- 
eries mattered  In  comparison  with  this  woman, 
and  that  he  wanted  to  acquire  glory  and  wealth 
only  In  order  to  keep  the  charming  girl  by  his 
side. 

Assuredly  he  loved  her  just  as  I  did,  and  with 
the  same  fierce  desire. 

Barbe  came  and  went  as  she  waited  on  us  more 
or  less  anyhow.  We  were  silent.  I  avoided 
looking  at  Emma,  being  persuaded  that  my  looks 
would  have  resembled  kisses  and  that  my  uncle 
would  have  divined  them. 

She,  now  quite  at  her  ease,  pretended  Indiffer- 
ence ;  and  with  her  chin  In  her  hands,  her  elbows 
on  the  table,  her  bare  arms  showing  out  of  her 
short  sleeves,  she  gazed  through  the  windows  at 
the  meadows  whose  inhabitants  were  lowing. 

I  should  have  liked  to  gaze  at  the  same  sight  as 
my  bien-aimce;  this  distant  and  sentimental  com- 
munion would  have  satisfied  one ;  but  unluckily  the 
meadows  were  not  visible  from  where  I  sat,  and 
my  eyes  wandered  Idly  about,  none  the  less  noting 
the  whiteness  of  her  bare  arms  and  the  unwonted 
heaving  of  her  bodice. 

As  I  was  interpreting  this  unwonted  emotion  on 
her  part  in  my  favor,  Lerne,  hostile  and  taciturn, 
broke  up  the  party.     He  ordered  Emma  off  to  her 


HOT  AND  COLD  95 

room  and  giving  me  a  book  bade  me  go  and  read 
in  tiie  shade  of  the  forest. 

I  had  but  to  obey.  "Bah,"  I  said  to  myself,  "in 
spite  of  his  exhortations,  he  is  more  to  be  pitied 
than  I  am." 

The  happenings  of  that  night  cooled  my  pity 
most  notably. 

The  incident  troubled  me  all  the  more  that  It 
did  nothing  to  lighten  the  darkness  of  the  mystery; 
in  itself  It  seemed  incomprehensible.  This  Is  what 
it  was: 

I  had  peacefully  fallen  asleep  with  my  mind 
dwelling  on  Emma,  and  the  delightful  hope  she 
inspired;  but  sleep  instead  of  bringing  me  pleasant 
dreams,  brought  back  the  absurdities  of  the  pre- 
ceding night,  the  moaning  and  barking  plants. 
The  Intensity  of  the  sound  kept  Increasing  In  my 
dream,  and  at  last  It  became  so  acute,  so  real, 
that  I  suddenly  woke  up. 

Sweat  was  drenching  my  body  and  my  hot 
sheets.  The  echo  of  a  recent  cry  was  just  dying 
on  my  tympanum.  It  was  not  the  first  time  I 
heard  It.  No — In  the  labyrinth  I  had  heard  It 
before,  that  cry,  far  away  in  the  direction  of 
Fonval. 

I  raised  myself  on  my  hands.  A  ray  of  moon- 
light lit  my  room.  I  could  hear  nothing.  Only 
from  the  old-fashioned  clock  came  any  sound — 


96  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

that  of  Time's  sickle.  My  head  fell  back  on  the 
pillow. 

Then  suddenly,  with  a  shuddering  of  my  whole 
being,  I  buried  myself  in  the  blankets  with  my 
fingers  in  my  ears.  The  sinister  howling  was 
rising  from  the  park  into  the  night,  a  sinister,  un- 
earthly howling.  It  was  indeed  that  which  I  had 
heard  in  my  nightmare;  my  dream  had  mingled 
with  reality. 

With  a  superhuman  effort  I  arose,  and  it  was 
then  that  I  heard  yelpings — a  sort  of  stifled  yelp- 
ings, very  much  stifled. 

Well,  after  all,  it  might  all  be  proceeding  from 
a  dog's  throat,  hang  it! 

Nothing  to  be  seen  from  the  window  on  the 
garden  side  except  the  plane  tree  and  the  other 
trees  drowsing  in  the  mxoonlight. 

Then  the  howling  began  again  on  the  left,  and 
from  the  other  window  I  saw  what  seemed  to  me 
for  a  moment  to  explain  everything. 

Some  distance  away  a  starved-looking  dog  was 
standing  with  its  back  towards  me.  It  was  a  huge 
animal,  and  it  had  laid  its  front  paws  on  the  closed 
shutters  of  my  former  bedroom,  and  every  now 
and  then  uttered  a  loud  long  wail.  The  other 
barkings — the  stifled  ones — replied  to  him  from 
the  inside  of  the  house;  but  were  they  really 
yelps?  Had  my  ears  deceived  me?  It  sounded 
more  like  the  voice  of  a  man  trying  to  imitate  the 


HOT  AND  COLD  97 

voice  of  a  dog.  The  more  I  listened,  the  more 
that  conclusion  forced  itself  on  me.  Yes,  certainly 
there  could  be  no  mistake;  how  could  I  have  hesi- 
tated? It  was  quite  clear — some  practical  joker 
in  my  bedroom  was  amusing  himself  with  teasing 
the  poor  brute. 

And  he  succeeded  in  doing  so;  for  the  animal 
gave  signs  of  increasing  exasperation.  He 
modulated  his  howling  in  the  most  extraordinary 
manner,  making  it  sound  like  a  cry  of  despair. 
Finally  he  scratched  the  shutters  with  rage  and 
bit  them.  I  heard  the  crackling  of  the  wood  be- 
tween his  jaws. 

Suddenly  the  beast  became  motionless,  its  hair 
bristling.  There  was  a  brusque  and  violent  out- 
burst in  that  room.  I  recognized  my  uncle's  voice 
but  could  not  catch  the  meaning  of  his  reprimand. 
Immediately  the  joker  was  silent.  But — and  how 
to  account  for  this  amazing  circumstance? — the 
dog  whose  frenzy  should  have  been  appeased,  was 
now  beside  itself;  its  backbone  bristled  up  like 
that  of  a  wild  boar.  Growling,  it  began  to  follow 
the  wall  of  the  chateau,  till  It  reached  the  main 
door. 

Just  as  it  reached  it,  Lerne  opened  it. 

Fortunately  for  me  I  had,  in  caution,  not  raised 
my  window  curtain.  His  first  look  was  towards 
my  window. 

In  a  low  voice,  with  restrained  wrath,  the  Pro- 


98  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD  . 

fessor  lectured  the  dog,  but  he  did  not  come  for- 
ward, and  I  perceived  he  was  afraid  of  it.  The 
other  came  nearer,  growling,  with  its  eyes  flashing 
from  under  its  great  brow.  Lerne  then  spoke 
aloud : 

*'To  your  kennel,  you  dirty  brute!"  (Then 
came  some  words  in  a  foreign  tongue.)  "Get 
away,"  he  went  on  in  French;  and  as  the  animal 
still  came  on — "Do  you  want  me  to  knock  your 
brains  out?     Eh?" 

My  uncle  seemed  to  be  losing  his  wits.  The 
moon  heightened  his  pallor.  "He'll  be  torn  to 
bits,"  I  said  to  myself,  "he  has  not  even  a  riding- 
switch." 

"Go  back,  Nell,  go  back." 

Nell?  So  it  was  the  St.  Bernard  bitch  belong- 
ing to  the  Scot. 

And  then  came  a  stream  of  foreign  words  which 
to  my  complete  astonishment  made  me  realize  that 
jTiy  uncle  knev/  English. 

His  invectives  resounded  in  the  silence  of  the 
night. 

The  dog  gathered  Itself  together;  it  was  just 
going  to  spring  when  Lerne,  at  the  end  of  his  re- 
sources, threatened  it  with  a  revolver  and  with  the 
other  hand  pointed  out  the  way  he  wanted  the 
beast  to  go. 

Now,  it  has  happened  to  me,  when  out  shooting, 
to  see  a  dog  run  away  when  a  gun  is  leveled  at  It; 


HOT  AND  COLD  99 

he  knows  its  deadly  power.  That  this  should 
happen  in  presence  of  a  pistol  seemed  to  me  de- 
cidedly less  ordinary.  Had  Nell  already  experi- 
enced the  effect  of  the  weapon?  That  was  a 
plausible  theory;  but  I  fancied  that  she  had  under- 
stood the  English — English  being  Macbeth's 
tongue — rather  than  my  uncle's  revolver. 

She  calmed  down,  as  at  the  voice  of  Orpheus, 
cowered  and  with  her  tail  between  her  legs,  made 
for  the  gray  buildings  which  Lerne  was  pointing 
out  to  her.  He  ran  after  the  hound,  and  the 
darkness  swallowed  them. 

In  my  clock  the  imperishable  Harvester  mowed 
down  several  minutes. 

In  the  distance  a  door  banged  noisily.  Then 
Lerne  came  in  again. 

That  was  all. 

So  there  were  at  Fonval  two  beings  whose  exist- 
ence had  till  then  been  unsuspected  by  me;  Nell, 
whose  pitiful  appearance  hardly  showed  her  to  be 
happy,  Nell,  abandoned  doubtless  by  her  master 
in  a  hasty  flight — and  the  practical  joker.  For 
this  latter  could  not,  in  reason,  be  either  of  the 
two  women  or  one  of  the  Germans;  the  nature  of 
the  joke  betrayed  its  author's  age.  Only  a  child 
could  divert  itself  at  the  expense  of  a  dog.  But 
nobody  to  my  knowledge  lodged  in  that  wing. 

"Ah,"  Lerne  had  said  to  me,  "I  am  using  your 
room."     Who,  then,  lived  in  it? 


loo  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

I  was  determined  to  find  out  somehow.  If  the 
hidden  presence  of  Nell  in  the  gray  buildings  in- 
vested them  with  a  new  interest,  mysterious  as 
they  already  were,  the  closed  rooms  of  the  chateau 
became  yet  another  center  of  attraction. 

At  last  my  objectives  were  clearing. 

And  as  the  prospect  of  hunting  down  the  secret 
made  me  quiver  with  excitement,  a  presentiment 
warned  me  that  I  should  do  well  to  pursue  it  to 
the  death,  and  so  defy  Lerne's  first  command  be- 
fore breaking  the  second. 

"Let  me  find  out  first  what  it  is  all  about,"  said 
my  conscience;  "there  is  something  wrong.  After 
that,  I  can  attend  to  the  baggage  in  peace." 

Why  did  I  not  follow  my  own  advice?  But 
conscience  speaks  in  a  very  low  voice,  and  who  can 
hear  it  when  passion  begins  to  blare? 


CHAPTER  V 

"the  MADiMAN" 

A  WEEK  later  on,  I  was  in  ambush  behind  the 
door  of  my  former  bedroom — the  yellow  one — 
with  my  eye  to  the  keyhole. 

Oh!  it  was  not  easy,  or  it  did  not  appear  so. 
Never  had  the  left  wing  of  Fonval  been  so  jeal- 
ously closed,  even  In  the  days  when  the  monks  had 
been  cloistered  there. 

How  had  I  got  in  there?  In  the  simplest 
manner  possible. 

The  Yellow  Room  is  reached  by  the  central 
hall — where  every  one  could  walk  if  he  liked — by 
a  series  of  three  rooms.  The  hall  joins  on  to  the 
drawing-room,  then  comes  the  billiard-room, 
which  opens  Into  the  boudoir,  and  finally  this 
boudoir  opens,  on  the  rig:ht.  Into  the  Yellow 
Room,  which  lies  back  towards  the  park. 

Now,  on  this  day,  before  profiting  by  an  In- 
creased freedom,  I  tried,  one  by  one,  in  the  lock, 
keys  which  I  had  stolen  from  other  doors  here  and 
there.  I  had  no  confidence.  Suddenly  the  lock 
yielded.     I  opened  the  door,  and  I  saw  In  the  half 

lui 


102  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

light  made  by  the  closed  shutters,  the  whole  suite 
of  rooms. 

I  recognized  as  I  went  from  threshold  to  thresh- 
old the  special  odor  of  each — each  a  little  more 
musty  than  in  the  old  days — the  sort  of  odors  that 
the  Past  would  exhale,  if  one  could  travel  in  its 
dust. 

I  followed  on  the  tips  of  my  toes  a  track  on 
which  many  boots  had  left  their  mud — now  dry. 
A  mouse  ran  over  the  drawing-room  carpet.  On 
the  billiard-table,  the  ivory  balls — red  and  white 
— formed  an  isosceles  triangle.  Mentally  I  cal- 
culated the  stroke,  the  amount  of  screw  I  should 
put  on,  and  the  place  where  I  should  hit  the  second 
ball,  then  I  found  myself  in  the  boudoir  itself. 
The  clock,  which  had  stopped,  pointed  to  twelve. 
I  felt  myself  very  receptive.  But,  hardly  had  I 
had  the  leisure  to  see  the  shut  door  of  the  Yellow 
Room,  than  a  sound  brought  me  back  hurriedly 
into  the  hall. 

It  was  no  jesting  matter.  Lerne  worked  in  the 
gray  buildings,  but  he  knew  that  I  was  in  the 
chateau,  and  on  such  occasions,  it  was  his  custom 
to  come  in  suddenly  to  watch  me.  It  seemed  to 
me  prudent  to  put  off  the  enterprise. 

An  hour's  liberty  was  indispensable  to  me,  so  I 
evolved  the  following  stratagem: 

The  next  day  I  went  in  my  car  to  Grey- 
I'Abbaye,  and  I  there  bought  several  articles  of 


"THE  MADMAN"  103 

toilet,  and  hid  them  in  a  bush  in  the  forest,  not 
far  from  the  Park. 

On  the  day  after  that,  after  lunch,  Emma  heard 
me  say: 

*'I  am  going  to  Grey  this  afternoon.  I  am 
going  to  get  some  articles  I  need.  If  I  cannot 
get  them  there,  I  shall  push  on  to  Nanthel.  Have 
you  any  commissions  to  give  me?" 

Fortunately,  they  had  none,  otherwise  every- 
thing would  have  come  to  grief. 

By  this  means  I  could  go  out  for  a  quarter-of- 
an-hour,  and  bring  in  my  purchases  from  the  bush, 
as  if  I  had  gone  to  make  them  in  the  village. 

Now,  one  might  reckon  on  the  journey  from 
Fonval  to  Grey  and  back  taking  about  an  hour- 
and-a-quarter,  so  I  had  an  hour  at  my  disposal. 

I  go  out,  leave  my  car  in  the  thicket  not  far 
from  the  hiding-place  in  the  bushes,  then  come 
into  the  garden  again  over  the  wall.  The  ivy  on 
one  side,  and  the  trellis  on  the  other,  made  it  easier. 
Keeping  close  to  the  castle  wall,  I  reached  the  hall. 

And  now,  I  am  in  the  drawing-room,  with  the 
door  carefully  shut  behind  me.  In  case  I  might 
need  to  make  a  dash,  however,  I  thought  it 
prudent  not  to  turn  the  key,  and  now  I  am  spying, 
with  my  eye  to  the  lock  of  the  yellow  chamber. 

The  keyhole  was  a  large  one.  It  made  a  sort 
of  loop-hole  through  which  a  keen  air  was  blowing 
— and  what  do  I  see  ? 


I04  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

The  room  was  dark  and  cut  Into  layers  by  the 
shutters.  A  slanting  ray  seemed  to  be  supporting 
the  window  with  its  column,  and  the  motes  of  dust 
were  dancing  about  in  it  as  the  worlds  dance  about 
in  space. 

On  the  carpet  the  laths  of  the  shutters  projected 
their  lines.  Here  was  a  den!  A  gypsy  lair! 
Here  and  there,  clothes  on  the  ground.  A  plate 
with  scraps,  and  near  it  a  piece  of  filth.  One 
would  have  said  it  was  a  hermit's  haunt. 

Ah !  and  what  was  that  which  moved  on  the 
bed  ?  There  he  is,  the  recluse  !  It's  a  man !  He 
was  lying  face  downwards  amongst  the  disorder 
of  the  bolster  and  the  quilt,  with  his  head  leaning 
on  his  arms.  He  had  on  only  a  nightshirt  and 
trousers.  His  beard  was  of  several  weeks' 
growth,  and,  like  his  hair,  which  was  rather  short, 
was  almost  of  a  whitish-yellow. 

Ever  since  that  cry  the  other  night,  my  head 
had  been  full  of  whimsies.  No,  I  had  never  seen 
that  puffy,  dirty  face — that  podgy  body. 

His  eyes  seemed  kindly  enough — stupid,  but 
good  and  endearing.  Um !  What  a  curious  in- 
difference in  his  face !  He  must  be  a  lazy  chap, 
though. 

The  prisoner  was  snoozing,  badly,  it  seemed. 
The  flies  were  annoying  him.  He  drives  them 
away  with  a  sudden  clumsy  gesture  of  his  hand. 
His  indolent  eye  follows  their  flight  between  his 


'THE  MADMAN"  105 

snoozes,  and  sometimes,  seized  with  a  fit  of  anger, 
and  making  his  lips  smack  together  with  a  sudden 
movement  of  his  head,  he  tries  to  snap  up  the 
insects  that  irritate  him  so  as  they  pass  by. 

The  madman !  There  is  a  madman  in  my 
uncle's  house!!  Who  could  he  be?  My  eyelids 
touched  the  keyhole.  My  eye  became  frozen. 
The  other  one,  taking  its  turn  of  duty,  is  rather 
short-sighted.  I  saw  very  badly.  My  line  of 
sight  was  rather  narrow.  Good  God!  I  have 
hit  the  door  and  made  a  noise.  The  madman  has 
jumped  up  !  How  small  he  is  !  Hallo  !  here  he 
is  coming  towards  me !  Suppose  I  were  to  open 
the  door?  Ah  !  Now  he  is  throwing  himself  on 
the  floor  and  sniffing  and  growling.  Poor  fellow ! 
It  is  a  sad  sight. 

He  had  guessed  nothing.  Crouching  in  the 
track  of  the  sunray,  and  all  striped  with  the 
shadow  of  the  shutters,  I  could  more  easily  ex- 
amine him. 

His  hands  and  face  were  spotted  with  little  rosy 
stains,  like  old  scratches.  One  would  have  said 
that  he  had  been  fighting. 

Ah  !  but  this  is  graver.  A  long  purple  scar  goes 
under  his  hair,  from  one  temple  to  the  other, 
round  the  back  of  his  head.  It  is  very  likely  the 
scar  of  a  wound. 

The  poor  fellow  has  been  ill-treated.  Lerne 
has  made  him  undergo  some  horrible  treatment, 


io6  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD  . 

or  he  is  wreaking  some  vengeance  on  him.  Oh! 
the  brute ! 

Immediately  an  association  of  ideas  worked  in 
my  brain.  I  remembered  the  Indian  profile  of  my 
uncle,  the  unusual  locks  of  Emma, — those  of  the 
madman  which  are  so  yellow,  and  the  green  fleece 
of  the  rat.  Can  Lerne  t>s  trying  to  graft  hairy 
scalps  on  bald  scalps?  Can  that  be  the  enter- 
prise?— and  immediately  I  see  that  my  idea  is 
absurd.  Nothing  corroborates  it,  and  then  (this 
is  a  clinching  argument)  the  madman  has  not  been 
scalped,  as  in  that  case  his  scar  would  have  de- 
scribed a  complete  circle.  Why  should  he  not 
have  gone  mad  simply  through  a  fall  on  the  back 
of  his  head?  At  any  rate,  he  is  not  a  dangerous 
lunatic.  He  is  harmless.  He  has  rather  a  nice 
expression.  His  eyes  now  shine  with  a  sort  of 
intelligence.  I  am  sure  if  I  questioned  him  gently 
he  would  answer.     Suppose  I  tried. 

Only  a  bolt  closed  the  door  on  my  side.  I  drew 
it  deliberately,  but  before  I  got  into  the  Yellow 
Room,  the  recluse  dashed  forward,  head  down- 
wards— passed  between  my  legs,  knocked  me 
down,  and  then  escaped,  with  those  dog's  yelps 
which  the  other  night  had  made  me  take  him  for 
a  practical  joker. 

I  was  disconcerted  by  his  agihty.  How  could 
he  make  a  fool  of  me  that  way?  And  what  a 
strange  idea,  that  of  running  between  my  legs  I 


"THE  MADMAN"  107 

In  spite  of  the  suddenness  of  the  adventure, 
just  as  quickly  as  he  made  me  fall,  I  got  on  my 
legs  again,  dazed  and  astonished.  Here  is  a  luna- 
tic let  loose — a  madman  who  will  ruin  me  !  "Oh  ! 
Nicolas,  my  boy,  you  are  done  for,  done  for! 
There  is  not  the  shadow  of  a  doubt  about  it. 
Would  it  not  be  better  to  take  French  leave  than 
chase  the  fugitive?  What  good  can  it  do  now? 
Ah!  But  Emma  and  the  secret!  Oh,  damn  it 
all !  Let's  try  and  catch  him !"  and  I  am  after  the 
Unknown. 

I  hope  he  won't  go  near  the  gray  buildings. 
No,  thank  goodness,  he  is  taking  the  opposite  di- 
rection !     None  the  less,  anybody  can  see  us. 

The  Deserter  goes  gamboling  along  in  high 
spirits,  and  plunges  in  the  wood.  Thank 
heaven,  the  creature  is  no  longer  barking,  and  that 
is  always  something.  Is  that  somebody?  No,  it 
is  a  statue.  I  must  gain  on  him  as  soon  as  pos- 
sible. If  he  only  takes  the  wrong  turn,  we  shall 
be  spotted,  and  it  is  all  up  with  me.  How  cheer- 
ful he  seems,  the  brute  !  Curse  him !  If  he  goes 
on  in  this  line,  we  shall  be  round  the  Park,  and 
the  chase  will  pass  under  the  front  of  the  gray 
buildings — under  the  very  windows  of  Lerne. 

A  blessing  on  the  trees  which  still  hide  us. 
Quick.  .  .  .  That  drawing-room  door  which  I 
have  left  open !     Quick!     Quick.  .  .  . 

But  the   fellow  did  not  know  he  was  being 


io8  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD. 

chased.  He  did  not  look  behind  him.  His  bare 
feet  were  hurting  him  and  keeping  him  back.  I 
am  gaining  on  him.  .  .   . 

He  has  stopped  and  is  sniffing  the  breeze;  now 
he  is  off  again;  but  I  have  got  nearer.  He  has 
jumped  into  the  bushes  on  the  left,  towards  the 
cliff — so  do  I.  I  am  only  ten  yards  off,  now.  He 
dashes  through  the  brambles  without  heeding 
their  thorns.  I  follow  in  his  wake.  The  branches 
are  lashing  at  him,  and  the  thorns  are  hurting 
him.  He  is  moaning.  Well,  why  does  not  he 
thrust  them  aside?  He  could  easily  avoid  their 
clutches.  The  cliffs  are  not  far  away.  Now  we 
are  making  straight  for  them.  On  my  honor ! 
My  quarry  seems  to  know  perfectly  well  where  it 
is  going.  I  see  his  back  now  and  again.  I  must 
track  him  by  the  crackling  of  the  branches. 

At  last  I  see  his  narrow  head  again,  against 
the  rocky  path.  Silently  I  glide  up.  Another 
second,  and  I  shall  be  upon  him,  but  an  unexpected 
action  of  his  makes  me  pause  at  the  edge  of  the 
clear  space  which  encircles  me,  and  of  which  the 
cliff  forms  one  side. 

He  is  on  his  knees,  scratching  furiously  at  the 
soil.  The  task  tortures  his  nails,  so  that  he 
whines  as  he  did  a  moment  ago  amongst  the  thorns 
of  the  hawthorn  and  the  bramble. 

The  earth  flies  from  behind  him  up  to  me;  his 
rigid  hands  working  with  force  and  rapid  motion. 


•THE  MADMAN"  109 

He  digs  away,  groaning  with  pain,  then,  ever  and 
anon,  plunges  his  nose  into  the  hole  as  deeply  as 
he  can,  snorts,  shaking  his  head,  and  resumes  his 
task. 

The  scar  is  now  fully  visible  to  me,  it  is  like  a 
livid  crown.  Oh !  I  do  not  mind  his  madness. 
Now's  the  time.  Jump  on  him,  and  carry  him 
off! 

I  come  out  of  the  thicket  stealthily.  Hallo ! 
somebody  has  already  been  digging  here  !  A  heap 
of  earth,  which  has  become  gray,  shows  that  my 
yellow-haired  gentleman  is  only  resuming  some 
old  bit  of  work.     Well !     Well ! 

I  bend  my  legs  and  get  ready  to  jump. 

The  man  then  utters  a  grunt  of  pleasure,  and 
what  do  I  see  in  the  hole  he  has  made — an  old 
shoe  that  he  has  just  unearthed!  Ah!  poor 
humanity! 

I  jumped.  I  have  got  him,  the  rascal.  Good 
Lord!  he  turns  round  and  thrusts  me  away,  but 
I  shall  not  leave  go.  It  is  queer  how  awkward 
he  Is  with  his  hands. 

Ah  !  would  you  bite,  you  devil ! 

I  grasp  him  hard  enough  to  break  his  bones. 
He  has  never  done  any  wrestling,  that  is  clear, 
but  I  have  not  got  the  better  of  him  yet.  Ah! 
I  have  made  a  wrong  step  !  it  is  the  hole.   ... 

I  am  walking  on  the  old  boot.  Horror! 
There  is  something  in  it — something  which  is  fas- 


no  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

tening  it  to  the  ground.  I  am  beginning  to  pant. 
"Nothing  fits  a  foot  like  a  shoe." 

I  must  have  done  with  this.  The  moments  are 
golden. 

Each  clasping  the  other,  my  adversary  and  I 
are  face  to  face,  in  front  of  the  rock,  gasping — 
equally  matched.  .  .  .  Ah!  an  idea.  I  opened 
my  eyes  terribly  wide,  as  if  it  were  a  matter  of 
subduing  a  child,  or  a  beast.  I  put  on  the  domi- 
nating look  of  a  master,  whereupon,  the  other  let 
go  of  his  hold,  quite  tamed,  and  repentant — and  if 
he  is  not  licking  my  hands  in  token  of  obedience ! 

Ah,  well !      Come  along. 

I  drag  him  away.  The  shoe  is  an  elastic  one, 
and  stands  up  with  its  toe  in  the  air.  It  has  not 
that  lamentable  look  of  worn-out  shoes  that  have 
been  thrown  away  on  the  road,  but  it  is  more  re- 
pulsive. What  fixes  it  on  the  ground  is  deep  in 
the  soil.  One  can  only  see  the  end  of  a  bit  of 
knitting.      Can  it  be  a  sock? 

Trot  along,  my  friend ! 

My  companion  remains  docile,  thanks  to  my 
masterful  glances,  and  we  run  as  hard  as  we  can. 

Good  Heavens !  What  will  have  happened  in 
the  castle  during  this  expedition? 

Nothing  whatever  had  happened,  as  a  matter 
of  fact. 

But,  as  we  got  into  the  hall,  I  heard  Emma  and 
Barbe  talking  on  the  floor  above.     They  were  be- 


'THE  MADMAN"  iii 

ginning  to  come  down  the  stairs,  when  the  draw- 
ing-room door  shutting,  as  we  went  in,  ended  my 
alarms — only  to  give  me  new  ones. 

How,  now  that  the  poor  lunatic  was  back  in  his 
room,  how  was  I  to  get  out  without  being  observed 
by  one  or  other  of  the  women? 

Stealthily  creeping  back  on  tiptoe  to  the  draw- 
ing-room, I  listened,  with  my  ear  to  the  panel,  to 
distinguish  in  which  direction  the  two  intruders 
were  moving,  but  suddenly  I  recoiled  into  the 
middle  of  the  room,  demented,  looking  for  shelter 
of  some  kind,  such  as  a  screen,  and  gasping  like  a 
drowning  man.   .   .  . 

A  key  was  rattling  in  the  lock.  Was  it  my  key, 
left  in  the  door,  and  stolen  during  my  absence? 
Not  at  all.  Here  is  my  key,  in  my  waistcoat 
pocket  I     I  put  it  there,  when  I  first  came  in. 

Well,  then,  what  could  it  be? 

The  verdigrised  handle  slowly  turned.  They 
were  coming  in.    Who?    The  Germans?    Lerne? 

Emma !  Well,  she  could  only  see  an  empty 
room.  One  of  the  great  damask  curtains  stirred, 
perhaps,  but  she  did  not  remark  it. 

Barbe  stood  behind  her.  The  girl  was  saying 
softly:  "Stay  in  there  and  watch  the  garden.  Do 
what  you  did  the  other  day:  that  was  all  right. 
As  soon  as  the  old  man  comes  out  of  the  Labora- 
tory, warn  me  by  coughing." 

"It  is  not  he  who  worries  me,"  replied  Barbe, 


112  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

obviously  afraid.  "He  is  quite  easy  in  his  mind 
at  this  moment,  I  assure  you.  We  shall  not  see 
him  before  night,  but  as  for  that  Nicolas,  that  Is 
another  pair  of  shoes.     He  is  coming  on !" 

So  the  gray  buildings  were  called  the  Labora- 
tory, and  it  was  for  using  that  word  that  the 
Professor  had  silenced  the  servant  with  a  slap.  I 
was  beginning  to  know  more. 

Emma  went  on  in  an  irritated  tone  : 

"I  tell  you  again,  there  is  no  danger.  It  is  not 
the  first  time,  is  it?" 

"Ah !  but  that  Nicolas  was  not  there." 

"Come,  do  what  I  tell  you." 

Not  quite  resigned,  Barbe  went  off  to  keep 
watch.  Emma  remained  for  a  few  instants 
listening. 

Beautiful !  Oh,  she  was  beautiful !  Like  the 
very  demon  of  unlawful  love,  and  yet  she  was  but 
an  outline  against  the  shining  rectangle  of  the 
door — a  motionless  shadow,  but  a  shadow  as 
supple  as  a  movement.  For  Emma  in  repose,  al- 
ways seemed  as  if  she  had  paused  in  the  middle  of 
a  dance,  and  was  even  continuing  it  through  some 
strange  spell,  so  completely  did  the  sight  of  her 
make  a  harmony — that  harmony  of  the  wanton 
bayaderes,  whose  only  miming  is  love-making,  and 
who  cannot  move  in  their  undulating,  quivering 
motions,  without  shaking  their  locks,  nor  make  the 


"THE  MADMAN"  113 

least  little  gesture  without  a  suggestion  of 
voluptuousness. 

Life  was  boiling  in  my  veins!  My  senses 
whirled.  It  was  like  a  tide  of  passion  rising  from 
out  the  depths  of  the  ages. 

Emma!  In  the  madman's  room!  Heavens! 
With  that  brute!  The  wretched  girl!  I  could 
have  killed  her. 

You  will  say  that  I  did  not  know  anything,  that 
my  suspicions  were  groundless. 

Ah,  then,  you  do  not  know  that  impulsive  gait, 
that  sly  and  hungry  look  of  women  who  are  going 
stealthily  to  a  sweetheart. 

It  maddened  me.  The  pretty  girl,  as  she  has- 
tened to  this  ignoble  scene,  brushed  the  curtain 
with  the  swish  of  her  skirt.  I  stood  before  her 
barring  the  path. 

She  gave  a  gasp  of  terror.  I  thought  she  was 
going  to  faint.  Barbe  showed  her  great  round 
eyes,  and  fled  in  panic.  Then,  like  a  fool,  I  gave 
the  reason  for  my  exploit. 

"Why  are  you  going  to  that  madman's  room?" 
My  words  sounded  artificial,  broken. 

"Tell  me— Why?     In  God's  name,  tell  me?" 

I  had  flung  myself  upon  her,  and  twisted  her 
wrists.  She  gave  a  humble  moan  of  complaint, 
and  swayed  in  my  grasp. 

I  squeezed  the  soft,  firm  flesh  of  her  arms,  as 


114  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

if  I  were  throttling  two  doves,  and  bending  over 
her  agonized  eyes,  I  said. 

"WeU,  tell  me  why?" 

She  looked  me  up  and  down  in  defiance,  and 
then  said: 

"Well,  what  about  it?  You  know  perfectly 
well  that  Macbeth  was  my  lover.  Lerne  gave  you 
to  understand  that  in  my  presence  on  the  day  of 
your  arrival." 

"Is  that  Macbeth — that  madman?" 

Emma  did  not  reply,  but  her  astonishment  in- 
formed me  that  I  had  made  another  mistake  in 
showing  my  ignorance. 

"Have  I  not  the  right  to  love  him,"  she  went 
on.  "Do  you  think  you  are  going  to  prevent 
me?" 

I  shook  her  arms  as  if  they  were  bell-ropes. 

"Do  you  still  love  him?" 

"More  than  ever — do  you  understand?" 

"But  he  is  a  brute  beast." 

"There  are  madmen  who  think  they  are  gods. 
He  sometimes  imagines  he  is  a  dog.  His  lunacy 
is,  perhaps,  therefore  less  grave,  and  after 
all  .   .   ." 

She  smiled  mysteriously.  One  would  have  said 
that  she  wanted  to  drive  me  wild. 

Then  followed  a  scene  I  dare  not  describe. 


"THE  MADMAN"  115 

Well,  Barbe  made  an  untimely,  but  fortunate 
entrance,  coughing  as  loudly  as  she  could. 

"Here  is  Monsieur  coming."  Emma  dashed 
from  my  arms.  Lerne  was  terrorizing  her  once 
more,  "Off  with  you!  Make  haste,"  she  said. 
"If  he  knew,  you  would  be  done  for,  and  I,  too, 
most  likely.  Oh,  do  go !  Go,  my  little  duck ! 
Lerne  sticks  at  nothing." 

I  felt  she  was  speaking  the  truth,  for  her  dear 
cold  hands  were  shivering  in  mine,  and  her  mouth 
was  stuttering  with  terror. 

Still  under  the  excitement  of  an  imbecile  happi- 
ness, which  increased  my  strength  and  agility  ten- 
fold, I  climbed  the  trellis,  hand  over  fist,  and 
jumped  down  on  the  other  side  of  the  wall. 

I  found  my  car  in  its  garage  of  greenery.  I 
piled  in  my  parcels  as  fast  as  I  could.  I  was 
ridiculously  happy.  Emma  should  be  mine,  and 
what  a  mistress  she  would  make ! — a  woman  who 
had  not  recoiled  before  the  duty  of  bringing  to  a 
friend,  now  become  a  repulsive  thing,  the  consola- 
tion of  her  visits. 

But  now  it  was  I  who  was  favored,  I  was  sure 
of  that.  How  could  that  Macbeth  love  her? 
Nonsense!  She  had  lied  to  me  merely  to  rouse 
my  passions.     She  merely  had  pity  on  him. 

But  now,  when  I  came  to  think  of  it,  how  had 
madness  come  upon  the  Scot,  and  why  was  Lerne 


ii6  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD  . 

keeping  it  secret?  My  uncle  maintained  that 
Macbeth  had  gone  away.  Then  why  did  he  keep 
poor  Nell  in  prison?  I  understood  her  sorrow  at 
the  window,  and  her  rancor  against  the  Profes- 
sor, Some  drama  had  taken  place  in  her  prison, 
in  which  Lerne,  Emma  and  Macbeth  were  the  per- 
sonages— a  drama  which  was  the  result  of  some 
grievous  fault,  indeed,  no  doubt;  but  what  was  the 
drama?  I  should  soon  find  out.  A  woman  has 
no  secrets  from  her  lover,  and  that  is  what  I  was 
going  to  be. 

My  joy  generally  manifests  itself  in  the  form  of 
a  song.  If  I  remember  rightly,  I  hummed  the  air 
of  a  Spanish  dance  as  I  went  along,  and  I  only 
interrupted  it  suddenly  because  the  remembrance 
of  the  old  shoe,  now  full  of  sinister  meaning  in- 
truded on  my  reflections,  as  the  Red  Death  rises 
menacing  in  the  midst  of  a  ball. 

Instantly  my  cheerfulness  drooped.  The  sun 
went  down  in  the  depth  of  my  thoughts.  All 
things  became  dark,  suspicious  and  threatening. 
There  was  a  great  revulsion  within  me,  the  most 
dreadful  guesses  appeared  certainties  and  even  the 
image  of  Emma  faded  away. 

A  prey  to  the  terrors  of  the  unknown,  I  re- 
entered that  dungeon-castle  and  that  garden- 
tomb,  where  the  beautiful  Demon  awaited  me, 
standing  between  a  madman  and  a  corpse. 


CHAPTER  VI 

NELL THE  ST.  BERNARD 

Some  days  passed  without  any  event  which 
could  satisfy  either  my  love  or  my  curiosity.  Had 
Lerne  grown  suspicious  of  me,  and  contrived  to 
have  all  my  time  taken  up? 

In  the  morning,  he  would  invite  me  to  accom- 
pany him — one  day  on  foot,  and  another  in  the 
motor-car.  During  those  outings  we  would  talk 
at  random  of  scientific  matters,  and  he  would 
question  me  as  if  he  really  wished  to  judge  of  my 
capabilities. 

With  the  motor-car  we  used  to  cover  much 
ground.  In  our  walks,  my  uncle  usually  took  the 
road  which  led  straight  to  Grey.  He  would  often 
stop,  the  better  to  hold  forth,  and  never  went  be- 
yond the  skirts  of  the  wood.  Often  in  the  midst 
of  a  dissertation  or  a  jest,  after  we  had  started 
walking  or  driving,  Lerne  would  suddenly  go  back, 
distrusting  the  people  he  had  left  at  Fonval. 

He  also  organized  my  afternoons  for  me; 
sometimes  I  was  charged  with  a  message  for  the 
town  or  the  village,  sometimes  forced  to  go  off  by 
myself  on  some  errand.     I  had  either  to  fill  up  my 

117 


ii8  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

tank  without   question,   or   put   on   my   walking 
boots. 

Lerne  always  watched  me  go,  and  at  nightfall, 
standing  on  his  doorstep,  he  exacted  from  me  an 
account  of  my  day.  As  the  case  might  be,  I  had 
either  to  give  a  report  of  what  I  had  done,  or 
describe  places. 

Now,  my  uncle  was  not,  as  a  rule,  familiar  with 
places,  it  is  true,  but  I  could  not  tell  which  ones, 
and  so  any  made-up  story  would  have  been  danger- 
ous. I  therefore  conscientiously  explored  the 
forest  and  the  country-side  from  dawn  to  dusk. 

And  yet,  I  should  have  liked  to  go  to  Emma's 
room.  I  had  calculated  its  place  in  the  topog- 
raphy of  the  castle  by  the  number  of  windows 
which  were,  or  were  not  shut,  and  I  knew  them 
all  thoroughly. 

The  whole  left  wing  always  remained  closed. 
In  the  right  wing,  the  ground  floor,  and,  of  the  six 
bedrooms  above,  only  three  remained  open  for 
daily  use.  Mine  was  in  the  projecting  part  of  the 
building,  and,  at  the  other  end,  the  room  of  my 
Aunt  Lidivine  opened  on  the  central  corridor,  and 
communicated  with  Lerne's,  so  that  Emma  must 
have  succeeded  my  aunt  in  my  aunt's  own  bed. 
The  very  thought  of  it  maddened  me,  and  I 
waited  impatiently  for  the  opportunity  I  sought. 

But  the  Professor  was  keeping  watch ! 

Under  his  pitiless  tyranny,  I  saw  Mile.  Bour- 


NELL— THE  ST.  BERNARD        119 

dichet  only  at  meal-times.  We  both  put  on  a  de- 
tached air.  I  now  ventured  to  look  at  her,  but 
I  did  not  dare  to  speak  to  her.  She  persisted  in 
a  most  absolute  silence,  so  much  so,  that,  in  ab- 
sence of  conversation,  I  had  to  judge  of  her  na- 
ture by  her  bearing,  but  I  must  admit  that,  how- 
ever gross  may  be  the  human  functions  of  feeding 
oneself  on  dead  beasts  and  withered  plants,  there 
are  two  methods  of  eating.  This  lady  thought 
nothing  of  taking  the  chicken  bone,  or  cutlet  bone 
in  her  fingers,  and  every  time  she  gave  herself  up 
to  this  pleasure,  I  fancied  I  should  hear  her  say, 
"My  little  duck,"  in  her  plebeian  voice. 

Between  Emma  and  me,  Lerne  fidgeted  about. 
He  crumbled  the  bread,  and  dallied  with  his  fork, 
and  suppressed  anger  would  make  him  bring  down 
his  fist  on  the  cloth  till  the  cups  and  glasses 
rattled. 

One  day,  by  mischance,  my  foot  knocked  against 
him.  The  Doctor  suspected  this  innocent  foot  of 
light  behavior.  He  attributed  to  it  telegraphic 
intentions,  and,  persuaded  that  it  had  communi- 
cated through  its  toe  some  pedestrian  and  stealthy 
love-sign,  he  decreed  at  once  that  Mile.  Bourdichet 
was  feeling  unwell,  and  would  thenceforth  take  her 
meals  in  her  own  room. 

So  two  passions  occupied  my  thoughts — hatred 
of  Lerne,  and  love  of  Emma,  and  I  resolved  on 
the  most  audacious  plans  to  satisfy  them  both.     It 


120  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD    . 

so  happened  that  on  that  very  day,  my  uncle  said 
to  me  suddenly  that  he  wanted  to  take  me  In  the 
car  to  Nanthel,  where  he  had  business.  I  fancied 
I  saw  a  chance  of  escape  from  his  vigilance. 

The  next  day  was  a  Sunday,  and  Grey  was  cele- 
brating the  Feast  of  its  Patron  Saint.  I  should 
know  how  to  profit  by  that ! 

"With  pleasure.  Uncle,"  I  said.  "We  shaU 
start  in  the  car,  barring  accidents." 

"I  should  prefer  to  go  in  the  car  to  Grey,  and 
then  take  the  train  to  Nanthel.  That  will  be  the 
surest  way." 

That  suited  my  book  admirably. 

"Very  well,  uncle." 

"The  train  starts  from  Grey  at  8  o'clock.  We 
shall  come  back  by  the  5.13.  There  is  none  be- 
fore that." 

On  arriving  at  the  village,  we  heard  a  noise  of 
bustle,  with,  every  now  and  again,  the  lowing  of 
cattle.  A  horse  neighed,  and  some  sheep  were 
bleating. 

I  had  some  difficulty  in  making  my  way  across 
the  Square  of  Grey-ri\.bbaye,  which  had  now 
been  turned  into  a  Fair,  and  was  swarming  with  a 
good-tempered  and  slow-moving  crowd. 

In  the  spaces  between  the  shooting  galleries,  and 
other  shabby  booths,  they  had  inclosed  the  cattle 
which  were  for  sale.     Rough  hands  were  calcu- 


NELL— THE  ST.  BERNARD        121 

latlng  the  weight  of  udders,  were  opening  jaws  by 
which  a  beast's  age  can  be  read,  slipping  their 
hands  along  their  muscles  to  judge  of  their  condi- 
tion, and  so  on. 

The  horse  dealers  were  talking  big,  and  between 
two  rows  of  patient  peasants,  grooms  were  trot- 
ting about  heavy  cart-horses,  and  riding-whips 
were  cracking  all  round. 

The  first  man  drunk  that  day,  stumbled  up,  ad- 
dressing me  as  "Citizen." 

We  went  straight  on  in  the  semi-silence  of  this 
Ardennes  Market.  The  village  inn  was  already 
full  of  people,  singing,  and  not  yet  fighting.  The 
church-bells  were  ringing  their  chimes  of  warning, 
and  in  the  center  of  the  Square,  a  little  white  build- 
ing, decorated  with  greenery,  showed  that  the  Mu- 
nicipal Band  would  soon  be  adding  its  very  simple 
strains  to  the  hubbub  of  the  fete. 

When  we  got  to  the  station  (this  was  the  mo- 
ment I  had  chosen  to  act),  I  said: 

"Uncle,  shall  I  accompany  you  in  your  rounds 
at  Nanthel?" 

"Certainly  not.     Why?" 

"Well,  Uncle,  in  my  dislike  for  cafes,  taverns 
and  public-houses,  I  shall  ask  you  to  leave  me  here, 
where  I  shall  wait  for  you  just  as  easily  as  in  the 
shop  In  Nanthel." 

My  uncle  replied: 

"But,  you  are  not  obliged  .   .  ." 


122  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

"To  begin  with,  I  find  the  Grey  Festival  attracts 
me.  I  should  like  to  watch  the  crowds  a  little 
longer.  On  such  a  day  one  gets  the  liveliest  im- 
pressions of  the  manners  of  a  people,  and  I  feel, 
to-day,  that  I  have  the  soul  of  an  ethnologist." 

My  uncle  said,  "You  are  joking,  or  else  it  is  a 
mere  whim." 

"In  the  second  place,  Uncle,  whom  could  I  trust 
v/ith  my  car?  The  inn-keeper?  The  drunken 
tenant  of  a  hovel  full  of  clodhoppers  in  their  cups? 
You  surely  do  not  imagine  that  I  am  going  to  leave 
a  car  worth  twenty-five  thousand  francs,  exposed 
for  nine  hours  by  the  clock,  to  the  tricks  of  a 
village  on  the  spree!  No,  no,  I  prefer  to  watch 
my  car  myself." 

My  uncle  was  not  convinced  of  my  sincerity. 
He  wished  to  checkmate  the  little  trick  which  I 
might  be  planning  of  going  back  to  Fonval,  either 
in  my  motor-car,  or  on  a  borrowed  bicycle,  with 
the  intention  of  coming  back  to  Grey  in  time  for 
the  5.15 — and  that  was  just  exactly  the  plan  which 
I  had  thought  of.  The  accursed  savant  nearly 
upset  everything. 

"You  are  right,"  said  he  coldly,  and  he  set  his 
foot  on  the  ground,  and  amid  the  crowd  of  holiday 
travelers  in  their  Sunday  best,  raised  the  bonnet  of 
the  car,  and  looked  at  the  engine  minutely.  I  felt 
quite  uncomfortable. 

My  uncle  took  out  his  knife — took  the  carbu- 


NELL— THE  ST.  BERNARD       123 

retor,   and   slipped   some   of  the  pieces  into   his 
pocket,  and  addressed  me  thus: 

"There  is  your  car,  brought  to  a  standstill," 
said  he,  "but  as  you  might  make  off  in  another 
way,  I  am  going  to  give  you  something  to  do.  On 
my  return,  you  must  show  me  the  carburetor,  com- 
pletely restored,  and  fitted  up  with  pieces  of  your 
own  make.  The  blacksmith  has  not  yet  shut  up 
his  forge — he  will  lend  you  an  anvil  and  vise ;  but 
he  is  a  fool,  and  quite  unable  to  help  you.  There 
will  be  enough  there  to  keep  you  amused  until 

S.14." 

Perceiving  that  I  did  not  seem  to  mind,  he  went 
on  in  a  constrained  tone  : 

"I  must  ask  your  pardon.  Please  do  not  doubt 
that,  all  this  is  only  to  assure  your  future  by  pro- 
tecting the  secret  of  our  work.     Good-by." 

The  train  carried  him  off. 

I  had  let  him  talk  without  showing  any  signs  of 
annoyance;  and  indeed,  without  feeling  any,  for, 
being  but  a  poor  chauffeur,  detesting  grease  and 
scars  on  my  hands,  and  obliged  by  my  uncle's  will 
to  do  without  a  mechanic,  I  had  brought  with  me, 
in  the  boot  of  my  car,  several  spare  pieces, 
amongst  which,  was  a  complete  carburetor,  ready 
to  be  put  in  its  place.  Ignorance  stood  me  in  bet- 
ter stead  than  professional  skill,  so  I  set  to  work 
at  once,  being  in  no  wise  disturbed,  and  merely 


124  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

anxious  about  the  inmates  of  Fonval  left  to  their 
own  devices. 

Presently,  having  garaged  my  car  in  a  clump  of 
trees,  I  climbed  over  the  park  wall,  and  I  should 
have  climbed  straight  to  Emma's  room,  if  a  melan- 
choly barking  had  not  sounded  in  the  direction  of 
the  gray  buildings. 

"The  laboratory!  Nell!"  This  curious  fact 
of  a  dog  being  chained  up  in  a  laboratory  made  me 
hesitate  between  the  attractiveness  of  the  mystery, 
and  that  of  Emma ;  but  this  time,  a  sort  of  instinct 
of  self-preservation  aroused  by  the  unknown,  and 
the  danger  one  attributes  to  it,  was  bound  to  carry 
the  day. 

I  made  my  way  towards  the  gray  buildings.  Be- 
sides, the  Germans  would  no  doubt  be  there,  and 
their  presence  would  prevent  me  from  dawdling. 
So  it  was  merely  a  matter  of  snatching  a  few  min- 
utes from  love-making. 

As  I  passed  the  Yellow  Room,  I  put  my  ear  to 
the  shutters  in  order  to  assure  myself  that  Mac- 
beth was  alone.  He  was  so,  a  circumstance  which 
filled  my  heart  with  a  vast  satisfaction. 

Some  white  clouds  were  floating  in  a  cold  sky. 
The  wind  was  coming  from  Grey-l'Abbaye,  and 
brought  me  through  the  gorge  the  monotonous 
sound  of  the  church  bells.  Endlessly  they  repeated 
the  same  three  notes,  thus  performing  the  chime 
of  the  Arlesienne.     I  was  gay !     To  this  sacred 


NELL— THE  ST.  BERNARD        125 

accompaniment  I  whistled  the  melody  played  by 
the  orchestra,  and  the  juxtaposition  of  the  two  was 
like  placing  a  modern  statuette  on  a  Gothic 
pedestal. 

In  front  of  the  laboratory,  on  the  other  side  of 
the  road,  there  was  a  wood.  I  made  tacks  to 
reach  it,  having  formed  my  plan  of  assault.  In 
the  middle  of  this  wood,  I  used  to  possess  an  old 
friend — a  fir  tree.  Its  projecting  branches  formed 
a  spiral  staircase.  It  completely  dominated  the 
buildings.  No  laboratory  could  have  been  better 
placed,  or  more  accessible,  and  in  the  old  days  I 
used  to  play  there  at  being  a  sailor  on  the  yard- 
arms. 

The  tree  offered  me  a  perch,  rather  short,  no 
doubt,  but  still,  well  padded.  On  the  upper 
branches,  a  relic  awaited  me,  made  of  cords  and 
rotten  planks — the  cross-trees  !  Who  would  have 
said  that  one  day  I,  who  used  to  spy  out  conti- 
nents, archipelagoes — phantasies  with  some  like- 
lihood about  them — should  now  be  there  as  a  spy 
for  things  so  fabulously  unreal?  My  glances 
turned  towards  the  ground. 

As  I  have  said,  the  laboratory  was  composed  of 
a  court-yard  between  two  blocks  of  buildings.  The 
one  on  the  left  was  pierced  with  large  bay  windows 
on  its  one  story,  and  on  its  ground  floor.  It 
seemed  to  me  to  be  merely  two  large  rooms — one 
above   the   other.      I   only  saw  the   higher  one, 


126  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

which  was  elaborately  equipped — an  apothecary's 
cupboard,  marble  tables  covered  with  bulbs,  bottles 
and  retorts,  cases  (open),  sets  of  polished  instru- 
ments, and  two  indescribable  pieces  of  apparatus 
of  glass  and  nickel,  which  recalled  nothing 
analogous,  except,  perhaps,  vaguely,  the  round 
globes  screwed  to  a  stand  on  which  cafe  waiters 
lay  their  napkins. 

The  other  block  which  was  beyond  my  range, 
looked  from  the  outside  like  an  ordinary  dwelling- 
house,  and  was  evidently  the  place  where  the  two 
assistants  lodged. 

But,  what  I  had  taken  for  a  farmyard  on  the 
day  of  my  arrival,  took  up  all  my  attention. 

What  a  miserable  farmyard!  Its  walls  were 
fitted  with  wire-netted  compartments  of  various 
sizes,  which  rose,  piled  on  one  another,  to  an  im- 
mense height. 

In  these  lodges,  each  duly  labeled,  rabbits, 
guinea-pigs,  rats,  cats  and  other  animals  which  I 
could  not  distinguish  because  of  the  distance, 
moved  about  painfully,  or  remained  lying,  half- 
hidden  under  the  straw. 

Some  litter,  however,  was  jumping  about,  but 
I  could  not  perceive  the  cause.  A  nest  of  mice,  I 
presumed. 

The  last  cage  on  the  right  served  as  a  hen- 
house. Contrary  to  custom,  they  had  locked  up 
the  poultry  in  it. 


NELL— THE  ST.  BERNARD        127 

Everything  looked  mute  and  melancholy.  Four 
hens  and  a  cock,  of  rare  breed,  were  carrying  on 
a  more  cheerful  kind  of  life,  and  strutted  about 
cackling  on  the  concrete  floor,  pecking  at  it  per- 
sistently, in  the  vain  hope  of  discovering  corn  or 
worms. 

In  the  middle  of  the  yard  there  was  a  large 
hollow  square  of  gratings.  These  were  the 
kennels. 

Between  the  two  rows  of  compartments,  like 
philosophers  that  were  both  Cynics  and  Peripate- 
tics, dogs,  with  a  resigned  look,  walked  up  and 
down  —  ordinary  terriers,  butcher's  lurchers, 
watch-dogs,  bull-terriers,  a  ruffianly  bulldog  and 
mongrel  bloodhounds — in  fact,  a  whole  pack  of 
coarse,  good-for-nothing-but-fidelity  beasts. 

They  were  roaming  up  and  down,  and  gave  this 
courtyard  the  appearance  of  the  yard  of  a  vet- 
erinary hospital.  And  this  Is  where  things  took 
on  a  somber  coloring.  Of  all  those  beasts  very 
few  seemed  healthy.  Most  of  them  were  wearing 
bandages — on  the  back,  round  the  neck,  on  the 
back  of  the  head,  and  more  especially  round  the 
head.  One  hardly  saw  any  of  them  through  the 
grating,  which  did  not  wear  a  piece  of  white 
linen  rolled  up  into  a  cap,  hood  or  turban,  and  this 
procession  of  sorrowful  dogs,  with  their  absurd 
headdresses  of  linen  bandages,  and  each  with  a 


128  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD. 

label  attached  to  its  neck,  was  a  most  funereal 
sight  to  see. 

Most  of  those  poor  wretches  were  smitten  with 
some  infirmity.  One  would  fall  on  his  muzzle  at 
almost  every  step;  another  was  limping;  the  head 
of  a  third  was  shaking  and  quivering  like  that  of  a 
palsied  old  man.  A  mastiff  stumbled  about, 
whining  without  apparent  reason,  and  suddenly  it 
would  utter  a  loud  death-like  howl. 

Nell  was  not  there  ! 

I  perceived  in  a  shady  corner  an  aviary — silent 
and  with  no  bird  trying  its  flight.  As  far  as  I 
could  make  out,  the  occupants  belonged  to  the 
commoner  families  of  birds,  and  there  were 
sparrows  in  great  numbers.  The  greater  portion 
of  them,  however,  were  a  white-headed  species, 
but  I  did  not  know  enough  of  ornithology  to 
recognize  them  from  such  a  height. 

The  smell  of  carbolic  came  up  to  me. 

Oh,  for  the  scents  of  the  farmyard,  the  cooing 
of  pigeons  on  the  moss-clad  roofs,  the  cock's 
cock-a-doodle-doo,  the  yelp  of  the  dog  tugging  at 
its  chain,  the  squadrons  of  geese  with  outspread 
wings !  I  kept  thinking  of  you,  in  the  -presence 
of  this  lazar-house ! 

A  sad  farmyard,  indeed,  with  its  severe 
arrangement,  and  its  patients  ticketed  like  the 
plants  in  a  hothouse. 

Suddenly  there  was  a  bustling.    The  dogs  went 


NELL— THE  ST.  BERNARD        129 

back  to  their  kennels,  and  the  poultry  took  refuge 
under  a  trough.  Nothing  budged  again.  The 
aviary  and  the  cages  seemed  to  contain  nothing 
but  stuffed  beasts. 

Karl,  the  German,  with  his  Kaiser-like  mus- 
taches, had  come  out  of  the  building  on  the  left. 
He  opened  one  of  the  compartments,  thrust  out 
his  hand  towards  a  ball  of  hair  which  was  curled 
up  in  it,  and  drew  out  a  monkey. 

The  animal,  which  was  a  chimpanzee,  strug- 
gled. The  assistant  dragged  it  off,  and  dis- 
appeared with  It  by  the  way  he  had  come.  The 
mastiff  gave  a  long  howl. 

Then  began  a  bustling  in  the  apparatus-room, 
and  I  saw  that  the  three  assistants  had  just  come 
in.  They  stretched  out  the  gagged  monkey  on 
the  table,  and  fastened  It  solidly  down;  William 
thrust  something  under  its  nose. 

Karl,  with  a  morphia  syringe,  pricked  the 
chimpanzee's  flank,  then  the  tall  old  man,  Johann, 
approached.  He  put  his  golden  spectacles 
straight,  with  a  hand  which  held  a  knife,  and  bent 
over  the  patient. 

I  cannot  explain  the  operation  so  rapid  was  it, 
but  In  less  than  no  time,  the  face  of  the  chim- 
panzee was  nothing  but  a  hideous  blur  of  red. 

I  turned  away,  sickened  with  a  sense  of  dis- 
comfort— a  discomfort  caused  by  seeing  blood. 
At  last  I  turned  my  face  back  again.     It  was  too 


130  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

late;  the  sun  was  striking  on  the  windows,  and  I 
could  not  see  for  the  dazzle;  but  in  the  court- 
yard, the  dogs  had  left  their  boxes,  and  amongst 
them  now  Donovan  Macbeth's  dog  Nell  was 
prowling  about. 

She  was  coughing.  Her  hairless  skin  no  longer 
suggested  the  fine  coat  of  a  St.  Bernard.  The 
superb  creature  was  nothing  but  a  great  carcass, 
whose  leanness  contrasted  with  the  comparative 
plump  shapes  of  her  companions. 

Nell,  too,  wore  a  bandage  on  the  back  of  her 
neck.  What  had  Lerne  devised  to  make  her 
suffer  since  the  night  of  their  adventure?  What 
diabolical  invention  was  he  trying  upon  her? 

Nell  seemed  to  be  reflecting;  her  very  manner 
of  walking  suggested  consternation.  She  held 
aloof  from  the  other  dogs,  and  when  a  certain 
bulldog  accosted  her  in  the  way  of  gallantry,  she 
started  back  with  a  look  so  fierce,  and  a  hoarse 
cry  so  terrible,  that  the  other  hurried  off  to  the 
depths  of  its  lair,  whilst  the  rest  of  the  pack,  put 
out  of  countenance,  raised  their  bedizened  heads. 

The  coy  Nell  went  her  way. 

What  was  I  doing,  remaining  there !  In  spite 
of  my  haste  to  shorten  this  reconnaissance,  and 
betake  myself  to  other  pastimes,  something  held 
me  back — something  inexplicable  in  the  behavior 
of  this  poor  dog. 

At  this  moment,  a  "quick-step"  played  by  the 


NELL— THE  ST.  BERNARD        131 

band  at  Grey-rAbbaye,  reached  Fonval  on  the 

wings  of  the  wind.  My  fingers,  of  their  own 
accord,  beat  time  on  the  branches  of  my  observa- 
tion post,  and  I  perceived  that  Nell  had  quickened 

her  walk  and  was  marching  in  time  to  the  rh)^hm 
of  the  music ! 

I  then  remembered  that,  in  talking  of  Nell, 
Emma  had  alluded  to  her  performing-dog  tricks. 
Was  this  a  circus  exercise  taught  by  Macbeth  to 
his  St.  Bernard?  It  did  not  seem  to  me  that 
in  the  absence  of  the  trainer  such  a  dance  could 
have  been  e?-:ecuted,  and  that  an  auditory  sensa- 
tion could  arouse,  in  the  case  of  an  animal,  those 
mechanical  movements  which  have  always  been 
our  prerogative,  and  are  the  result  of  habits  more 
complex  than  those  of  instincts. 

The  music  died  away  as  the  wind  fell.  The 
dog  sat  down,  raised  her  eyes,  and  saw  me. 

"Good  Heavens,  she  is  going  to  bark  and 
give  the  alarm  .  .  .  I"  Not  at  all.  She  looked 
at  me  without  fear  or  wrath — with  eyes,  the 
memon'  of  which  will  always  be  with  me — then 
shaking  her  great  shaggy-  head,  she  began  to  groan 
gently,  making  a  vague  gesture  with  her  paw,  then 
she  resumed  her  round,  still  murmuring,  and  cast- 
ing furtive  glances  in  my  direction,  as  if  she  de- 
sired to  make  herself  understood  without  drawing 
the  attention  of  the  Germans. 

(This,  of  course,  is  a  mere  descriptive  phrase, 


132  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD. 

but  one  might,  all  the  same,  have  imagined  that 
the  creature  wanted  to  speak,  so  human  were  the 
inflections  of  her  moans,  which  roughly  formed  a 
long,  gutteral  and  monotonous  phrase,  in  which 
there  always  occurred  the  syllables,  "Mabet, 
Mabet."  The  whole  thing  made  a  gurgling  sound, 
rather  like  English  words  badly  articulated.) 

The  entry  on  the  scene  of  the  three  assistants 
put  a  stop  to  this  curious  phenomenon. 

They  crossed  the  courtyard,  and  all  the  dogs — 
Nell  at  the  head — slunk  to  shelter.  Wilhelm,  as 
he  passed,  flung  over  the  grating  of  the  kennel  a 
chunk  of  meat — the  body  of  the  monkey,  skinned, 
the  hairy  part  hanging  attached. 

It  fell  heavily.     It  was  dead ! 

The  Germans  then  went  into  the  building  on 
the  right,  whose  chimney  was  smoking.  Then, 
one  by  one,  the  dogs  came  and  sniffed  at  the  re- 
mains of  the  chimpanzee.  The  bulldog  gave  the 
first  bite,  and  then  came  the  whole  pack,  growling 
ferociously. 

The  muzzles  of  the  lame  ones  were  soon  dyed 
red,  as  their  gnashing  teeth  tore  to  bits  this  piti- 
ful caricature  of  a  child's  body.  Nell,  only,  in 
front  of  her  kennel,  with  her  paws  crossed,  dis- 
dained the  feast,  and  looked  at  me  with  her 
beautiful  eyes.  I  fancied  I  had  discovered  why 
she  was  so  thin. 


NELL— THE  ST.  BERNARD        133 

Upon  this,  a  window  opened,  through  which  I 
perceived  a  table  set  for  three.  The  assistants 
were  going  to  lunch  in  front  of  my  wood.  It  was 
time  for  me  to  withdraw. 

Here  I  committed  an  unpardonable  piece  of 
folly,  I  ought  to  have  set  out  on  my  campaign 
against  the  old  shoe — that  was  elementary.  It 
appeared  to  me,  wrongly,  that  I  had  made  a 
supreme  concession  to  prudence — that  an  elastic 
boot  has  many  titles  to  be  considered  merely  an 
elastic  boot,  and  not  a  buried  man — not  even  a 
buried  body;  and  that,  to  a  generous  heart  a 
pretty  girl  is  more  important  than  all  knickknacks. 

I  reviewed  all  these  reasons,  with  the  result 
that  I  turned  towards  the  chateau. 

The  bedroom  of  my  Aunt  Lidivine  now  served 
as  a  lumber-room.  One  would  have  said  it  was 
the  wardrobe  of  a  lady  of  fortune.  Several  wicker 
lay-figures  covered  with  extremely  elegant  toi- 
lettes, formed  a  crowd  of  armless  and  headless 
coquettes.  The  mantelpiece  and  tables  were  like 
a  dressmaker's  show-cases,  where  feathers  and 
ribbons  go  to  make  up  those  tiny  or  huge  con- 
traptions, which  only  become  pretty  hats  once  they 
are  on  the  head.  A  battalion  of  dress  shoes  were 
fitted  on  their  trees,  and  a  thousand  feminine 
trifles  were  heaped  up  everywhere,  in  the  midst  of 


134  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

a  delicate  and  suggestive  aroma,  which  was  the 
one  Emma  loved. 

Poor  dear  Aunt !  I  should  have  preferred  your 
room  to  have  been  still  further  profaned,  and  that 
Mile.  Bourdichet  had  made  it  hers,  rather  than  to 
hear  laughter  in  the  next  one — that  of  your  hus- 
band; for  this  left  one  no  illusions. 

On  my  appearance,  Emma  and  Barbe  seemed 
stupefied.  The  girl  immediately  understood,  and 
began  to  laugh.  She  was  lunching  in  bed,  and 
with  a  turn  of  the  wrist,  she  twisted  her  flaming 
Bacchante  hair  into  a  knot. 

I  saw  the  outline  of  her  arm  through  the  sleeve, 
and  she  did  not  think  of  closing  her  nightdress. 

A  table  covered  with  bottles  and  brushes  had 
been  pushed  against  the  bed. 

Barbe,  who  was  serving  her  mistress,  cut  huge 
slices  out  of  a  ham.  My  first  thought  was  that 
Barbe  would  be  much  in  my  way. 

"And  what  about  Lerne?"  said  Emma. 

I  reassured  her.  He  would  only  come  back  at 
5  o'clock.  I  guaranteed  that.  She  gave  that 
little  cheerful  cluck,  which  is  the  sob  of  joy. 

Barbe,  who  was  obviously  devoted  to  her,  got 
so  uproariously  delighted  that  her  whole  person 
took  part  in  the  festival. 

It  was  half  past  twelve.  We  had  four  hours 
before  us.    I  suggested  that  that  was  rather  short, 


NELL— THE  ST.  BERNARD        135 

but  "Let  us  have  lunch,  will  you,  dearie?"  said 
she. 

I  had  nothing  better  to  do  for  the  moment, 
because  of  Barbe,  and  I  sat  down  face  to  face  with 
her. 


CHAPTER  VII 

THUS  SPAKE  MLLE.  BOURDICHET 

"Well,  my  dear,"  she  said,  "now  that  we  have 
got  as  far  as  that,  it  is  no  use  trying  not  to  begin 
again,  but  I  entreat  you,  no  imprudences — safety 
first !  Lerne,  you  know,  Lerne  !  Ah,  you  don't 
know  what  dangers  there  are  for  you — you  above 
all — you  especially!" 

I  saw  that  she  was  brooding  over  the  memory 
of  tragic  scenes. 

"But  what  are  the  dangers?" 

"That  is  just  the  worst  of  it,  I  do  not  know. 
I  do  not  understand  anything  that  is  happening 
around.  Anything!  Anything!  Except  that 
Donovan  Macbeth  went  mad  because  I  loved  him,  . 

— and  I  love  you,  too."  | 

"Come,  Emma,  let  us  be  cool.     We  are  allies  | 

now.  Between  us  we  shall  find  out  the  truth. 
When  did  you  come  to  Fonval,  and  what  has  hap- 
pened since?" 

And  then  she  told  me  her  adventures.  I  repro- 
duce them,  stringing  them  together  as  best  I  can, 
to  make  them  clearer,  but  as  a  matter  of  fact,  her 
story  was  spread  over  a  dialogue  in  which  my 

136 


THUS  SPAKE  MLLE.  BOURDICHET  137 

questions  guided  the  story-teller,  who  was  ever 
ready  to  make  digressions,  and  was  loquacious  in 
futilities. 

Sometimes  as  we  talked,  a  noise  would  interrupt 
our  talk.  Emma  would  sit  up  in  terror  of  Lerne, 
and  I  could  not  prevent  myself  shivering,  at  the 
sight  of  her  fear,  for  had  there  been  an  eye  or 
an  ear  at  the  keyhole,  the  somber  story  would 
have  been  repeated  in  my  case. 

One  way  or  another,  I  learned  from  Emma  her 
origin  and  her  early  life.  It  has  nothing  to  do 
with  my  story,  and  might  easily  be  summed  up 
in  the  phrase  "How  a  foundling  became  a 
courtesan !" 

Emma  showed,  during  this  confession,  a  sin- 
cerity which  would  have  been  called  cynicism  in 
the  case  of  any  one  less  candid. 

With  the  same  frankness,  she  went  on: 

"I  got  to  know  Lerne  years  ago.  I  was  fifteen, 
and  at  the  hospital  at  Nanthel.  I  had  entered 
his  service  as  a  nurse?  No!  I  had  had  a  fight 
with  my  friend  Leonie  about  Alcide,  who  was  my 
man.  Well,  I  am  not  ashamed  of  it!  He  is 
superb!  He  is  a  Colossus!  My  dear  boy,  he 
could  chuck  you  about  like  a  ball.  My  belt  was 
too  narrow  a  bracelet  for  him ! 

"Well,  I  got  a  blow  with  a  knife — a  nasty  one, 
too.     Just  look!" 

She  flung  off  the  coverlet,  and  showed  me,  near 


138  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

her  shoulder,  a  livid  triangular  scar — the  handi- 
work of  the  execrable  Leonie. 

"Yes,  you  may  well  kiss  it,"  she  went  on.  "I 
nearly  died  of  it.  Your  uncle  looked  after  me, 
and  saved  me.     I  may  well  say  that. 

"At  that  time,  your  uncle  was  a  fine  fellow — 
not  stuck-up.  He  often  spoke  to  me.  I  thought 
that  flattering.  The  head  surgeon !  Think  of 
that !  And  he  talked  so  well,  too.  He  gave  me 
long  sermons,  just  as  fine  as  any  in  Church,  about 
my  life:  it  was  bad,  I  ought  to  change  it,  and  so 
on,  and  so  forth.  And  all  this  without  having  the 
least  appearance  of  being  disgusted  with  me,  and 
so  sincerely  that  I  for  my  part,  began  to  be  dis- 
gusted with  it  myself,  and  not  to  wish  for  any 
m.ore  of  the  gay  life,  or  any  more  Alcide.  Illness, 
you  know,  that  cools  one's  blood;  and  Lerne  said 
to  me  one  fine  day,  'You  are  cured  now,  and  can 
go  away  when  you  like,  only  it  is  not  enough  to 
have  taken  a  good  resolution — you  must  keep  it. 
Will  you  come  to  my  house?  You  shall  be  the 
laundry-maid,  and  you  will  earn  your  living  far 
from  your  old  companions,  and  all  on  the  square, 
too,'  he  said. 

"All  this  puzzled  me.  I  said  to  myself,  'Oh, 
talk  away.  That  is  only  a  pretty  speech  to  fool 
me.  One  does  not  offer  to  keep  a  woman  for  the 
love  of  art.' 

"But  all  the  same,  Lerne's  kindness,  his  rank, 


II 


THUS  SPAKE  MLLE.  BOURDICHET  139 

his  fame,  and  a  certain  kind  of  niceness  in  him, 
made  me  more  grateful,  and  made  it  into  a  sort 
of  affection,  do  you  see,  and  I  accepted  his  pro- 
posal, and  all  that  might  follow. 

"Well,  would  you  believe  it!  Not  at  all! 
There  still  was  a  saint  on  earth,  and  that  was  he. 
For  a  whole  year  he  kept  away  from  me. 

"I  had  kept  my  journey  secret,  for  the  idea  of 
Alcide  finding  me  again  kept  me  from  sleeping. 

"  'Oh,  do  not  be  afraid,'  said  Lerne,  'I  am  no 
longer  the  hospital  surgeon,  I  am  going  to  work 
at  research.  We  are  going  to  live  in  the  country, 
and  nobody  will  come  to  seek  you  there.' 

"So  that  is  how  I  was  brought  here. 

"Ah,  you  should  have  seen  the  chateau  and  the 
park,  gardens,  servants,  carriages,  and  horses — 
nothing  wanting!     I  was  quite  happy. 

"When  we  got  here,  the  workmen  were  finish- 
ing off  the  additions  to  the  conservatory  and  the 
laboratory. 

"Lerne  kept  an  eye  on  their  work.  He  was 
always  joking,  and  repeating,  'Ah,  we  are  going 
to  work  there,  we  are  going  to  work  there,'  in  the 
same  sort  of  a  tone  in  which  schoolboys  shout 
out,  'Hurrah  for  the  holidays !' 

"They  fitted  up  the  laboratory.  Lots  of  boxes 
were  put  in  it,  and  when  all  was  finished,  Lerne 
set  off  one  morning  to  Grey  in  the  dog-cart.  The 
avenue  was  still  straight  at  that  time. 


140  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

"I  still  see  your  uncle  coming  back  with  the 
five  travelers  and  the  dog  which  he  had  gone  to 
get  at  the  station — Donovan  Macbeth,  Johann, 
Wilhelm,  Karl,  Otto  Klotz — you  remember  him — 
the  tall  dark  fellow  with  the  mustache? — and 
Nell.  The  Scot  had  joined  the  Germans  at 
Nanthel,  I  think  he  must  have  known  them 
before. 

"The  assistants  put  up  at  the  laboratory,  and 
Macbeth  slept  in  a  bedroom  in  the  chateau — Dr. 
Klotz  also. 

"Klotz  frightened  me  from  the  first,  and  yet 
he  was  a  strong,  handsome  chap. 

"I  could  not  help  asking  Lerne  where  he  had 
picked  up  that  jail-bird!  My  question  amused 
him  very  much. 

"  'Oh,  make  your  mind  easy,'  he  answered. 
'You  are  always  imagining  you  see  friends  of  M. 
Alcide.  Professor  Klotz  has  come  from  Ger- 
many. He  Is  very  learned.  He  is  not  an  assist- 
ant, he  is  a  collaborator,  and  will  watch  over  the 
work  of  his  three  compatriots.'  " 

"Excuse  me,  Emma,"  I  said.  Interrupting  her, 
"did  my  uncle  speak  German  and  English  at  that 
time?" 

"Not  much,  I  think.  He  tried  every  day,  but 
it  was  not  much  good.  It  was  only  at  the  end  of 
a  year,  and  all  of  a  sudden,  that  he  managed  to 


THUS  SPAKE  MLLE.  BOURDICHET  141 

speak,  it  fluently.  The  assistants  knew  a  few 
French  words,  and  Klotz  rather  more,  as  well  as 
a  little  English. 

"As  for  Macbeth,  he  only  understood  his  own 
language. 

"Lerne  told  me  that  he  had  agreed  to  take  him 
at  Fonval  because  the  young  man's  father  asked 
him;  he  wanted  his  son  to  work  for  a  time  under 
Lerne's  directions. 

"Where  was  your  room,  Emma?" 

"Near  the  laboratory.  Oh,  far  away  from 
Macbeth  and  Klotz !"  she  added  with  a  smile. 

"How  did  all  those  men  stand  towards  one 
another?" 

"They  seemed  good  friends,  but  I  do  not  know 
if  they  were  really.  I  fancy  that  the  four  Ger- 
mans were  jealous  of  Macbeth.  I  saw  nasty  looks 
sometimes,  but  in  any  case,  they  can't  have  hurt 
Donovan  much,  because  his  job  was  not  in  the 
laboratory,  but  in  the  chateau  and  the  conserva- 
tory. 

"His  work  at  first  was  to  swat  up  French  from 
books.  We  used  to  meet  often,  because  I  was 
always  coming  and  going  in  the  house.  He  was 
always  polite  and  respectful,  to  judge  by  the  signs 
he  made,  of  course,  and  I  was  obliged  to  be 
amiable,  too. 

"Those  little  bits  of  politeness,  I  am  afraid, 
made  him  and  Klotz  hate  each  other;  I  soon  saw 


142  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

that,  but  they  both  managed  to  hide  their  disHke 
wonderfully. 

"Nell  could  not  hide  hers,  and  never  missed  a 
chance  of  growling  at  the  German,  and  that  was, 
to  my  thinking,  only  the  smallest  sign  that  a  row 
was  likely,  but  your  uncle — he  saw  nothing,  and  I 
did  not  want  to  bother  him  with  my  complaints. 
I  did  not  dare  to  do  so,  and  on  the  other  hand, 
I  thought  it  rather  good  fun  to  make  them  jealous. 

"All  m.y  promises  to  Lerne  to  be  good  could 
not  stop  me  from  being  amused  at  the  jealousy  of 
those  two,  and  I  do  not  know  what  would  have 
been  the  end  of  it,  when  everything  changed  all 
of  a  sudden. 

"We  had  been  here  a  year—that  is  four  years 
ago  now." 

"Ah,  ha!"  I  cried. 

"What  is  it?" 

"Nothing,  nothing!" 

"Well,  it  is  four  years  ago  that  Donovan  Mac- 
beth went  off  to  Scotland  for  a  few  weeks'  holiday 
with  his  people.  The  day  after  he  had  gone, 
Lerne  left  me  in  the  morning.  'I  am  going,'  said 
he,  'to  Nanthel  with  Klotz.  We  shall  stay  there 
a  whole  day.' 

"At  night  Klotz  came  back  alone.  I  inquired 
about  Lerne,  and  he  told  me  that  the  Professor 
had  heard  important  news  and  had  to  go  abroad, 
and  that  he  would  be  away  for  about  three  weeks. 


THUS  SPAKE  MLLE.  BOURDICHET  143 

*'  'Where  is  he?'  I  asked  again. 

"Klotz  hesitated,  and  at  last  said,  'He  is  in 
Germany.  We  shall  be  by  ourselves  for  that  time, 
Emma.' 

"He  had  put  his  arm  round  my  waist,  and  was 
looking  into  my  eyes. 

"I  could  not  understand  how  Lerne  could  do 
such  a  thing — to  leave  me  without  warning  at  the 
mercy  of  a  stranger. 

"  'How  do  you  like  me?'  asked  Klotz,  pressing 
me  against  him. 

"I  have  already  told  you,  Nicolas,  that  he  was 
big  and  strong.  I  felt  his  muscles  tighten  like 
a  vise. 

"  'Well,  Emma,'  he  went  on,  'you  are  going  to 
love  me  to-day,  for  you  will  never  see  me  again.' 

"I  am  not  a  coward.  Between  you  and  me,  I 
have  been  caressed  by  hands  which  had  just  com- 
mitted murder.  I  have  been  made  love  to  in  ways 
that  were  like  murder.  My  first  lover  would  have 
stuck  a  knife  into  you  as  soon  as  look  at  you.  But 
Klotz  was  too  awful.  I  shall  never  forget  how 
frightened  I  was. 

"I  woke  up  late  in  the  morning.  He  was  gone. 
I  have  never  seen  him  again. 

"Three  weeks  passed.  Your  uncle  never  wrote ; 
he  stayed  away  longer  still. 

"He  came  back  without  notice.  I  did  not  even 
see  him  come  in.     He  told  me  that  he  had  made 


144  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

straight  for  the  laboratory  as  soon  as  he  got  back. 
I  saw  him  come  out  about  mid-day.  I  was  quite 
sorry  for  him,  he  looked  so  pale.  He  was  bent 
double  as  if  he  were  worried  to  death.  He  was 
walking  slowly,  as  if  he  were  following  a  hearse. 

"What  had  he  been  told !  What  had  he  done ! 
What  trouble  was  he  in? 

"I  asked  him  gently.  He  still  spoke  with  the 
accent  of  the  country  which  he  had  just  come  from. 

"  'Emma,'  said  he,  'I  think  that  you  love  me?' 

"  'You  know  very  well  that  I  do,  my  dear  bene- 
factor.   I  am  devoted  to  you,  body  and  soul.' 

"  'Do  you  think  that  you  can  love  me  with  real 
love?  Oh,'  said  he,  with  a  snigger,  'I  am  no 
longer  a  young  man,  but  .   .   .' 

"What  was  I  to  say?  I  did  not  know.  Lerne 
knitted  his  brows. 

"He  seized  my  two  hands.  His  eyes  were 
terrible. 

"  'Now,'  cried  he,  'no  more  joking;  no  more 
little  games,  you  are  mine  exclusively.  I  quite 
understood  what  was  going  on  here,  and  that  there 
were  admirers  hovering  round  you.  I  have  got 
rid  of  Klotz,  and  as  for  Donovan  Macbeth,  be 
on  your  guard.  If  he  does  not  stop,  it  is  all  up 
with  him.    Look  out !' 

"Then,  Lerne,  having  got  rid  of  the  servants, 
took  on  this  poor  Barbe  as  his  only  domestic,  and 
then  he  arranged  the  labyrinth  and  its  roads. 


THUS  SPAKE  MLLE.  BOURDICHET  145 

"On  the  day  arranged,  Macbeth,  in  his  turn, 
came  back  to  the  chateau,  followed  by  his  dog. 
He  was  surprised  to  see  the  forest  all  upside  down. 

"Lerne  went  up  to  him  while  he  was  still  hold- 
ing his  luggage  in  his  hand,  and  he  quite  dum- 
founded  him  by  such  a  violent  lecture,  and  so  evil 
a  countenance,  that  Nell  bristled  up,  put  out  her 
claws  and  began  to  growl. 

"What  was  bound  to  happen,  happened.  Con- 
sidering the  age  and  position  of  our  host,  Mac- 
beth and  I  should  probably  have  'respected  his 
roof,'  as  they  say,  but  it  was  only  a  question,  now, 
of  deceiving  an  angry  tyrant.     And  we  did. 

"Meanwhile,  the  Professor  became  more  and 
more  absurd  and  irritable  every  day.  He  was 
living  in  an  extraordinary  state  of  excitement, 
never  going  out;  working  like  a  horse,  genial, 
perhaps,  but  certainly  ill. 

"You  ask  me  why  I  think  so.     I  will  tell  you. 

"His  memory  began  to  fail.  He  used  to  get 
strange  fits  of  forgetfulness,  and  often  asked  me 
about  things  concerning  his  own  past;  he  remem- 
bered nothing  clearly  except  scientific  matters. 

"No  more  joking,  that  was  true,  and  no  more 
happiness  with  him! 

"For  a  mere  whim,  Lerne  would  swear  at  me. 
For  a  suspicion^  he  would  beat  me.  Not  that  I 
mind  hard  words  or  hard  blows,  but  only  from 
some  one  I  love. 


146  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

*'I  declared  to  this  worn-out  old  creature  that  I 
had  had  enough  solitude.  'I  want  to  be  off,'  I 
said. 

"Ah,  my  dear,  if  you  had  seen  him.  He  fell 
at  my  knees  and  embraced  them. 

"What  he  said  was,  'Remain,  my  dear  Emma, 
for  two  years  more.  Wait  until  then,  and  we  will 
go  away  together,  and  you  shall  have  the  life  of 
a  queen.  Have  patience.  I  understand  you  are 
not  made  to  be  in  this  sort  of  position,  as  if  in  a 
convent.  Take  my  word  for  it,  I  am  making  a 
vast  fortune  for  you.  Two  more  years,  living 
like  a  little  bourgeoisie,  and  then  the  life  of  an 
empress.' 

"I  was  dazzled  at  the  prospect,  and  remained 
at  Fonval. 

"But  the  years  followed  one  after  the  other — 
the  term  was  up,  and  no  luxury  yet.  However, 
I  waited  and  trusted,  because  Lerne  was  so  con- 
fident, and  so  clever, 

"  'Do  not  be  downhearted,'  he  said,  'we  are 
getting  on.  All  shall  happen  as  I  prophesy.  You 
shall  have  millions,'  and  to  cheer  me  up,  he 
ordered  for  me,  from  Paris,  every  season,  gowns 
and  hats  of  all  sorts,  and  many  other  knick- 
knacks. 

"  'Learn  to  wear  them,'  said  he,  'learn  your 
part,  and  rehearse  the  future.' 

"I  lived  three  years  in  this  way.     About  this 


THUS  SPAKE  MLLE.  BOURDICHET  147 

time  Lerne's  great  voyage  to  America  took  place. 
It  lasted  two  months,  for  which  time,  your  uncle 
had  sent  Macbeth  back  to  his  family,  by  way  of 
a  holiday. 

"They  came  back  on  the  same  day. 

"I  think  that  the  Professor  and  he  had  agreed 
to  meet  at  Dieppe.  Lerne  was  gloomy  and  angry. 
'You  will  have  to  wait  a  bit  yet,  Emma,'  he  said. 

"  'What  is  the  matter?'  I  said.  'Isn't  it  coming 
off?' 

"  'They  think  that  my  Inventions  are  not  per- 
fect enough;  but  there  is  nothing  to  be  afraid  of. 
I  shall  find  what  I  want  yet.' 

"He  resumed  his  researches  in  the  laboratory.'* 

Once  more,  I  interrupted  Emma's  narrative. 

"Excuse  me,"  I  said,  "did  Macbeth  work  also 
in  the  laboratory  at  that  time?" 

"Never!  Lerne  gave  him  jobs  to  do  in  the 
hothouse,  where  he  kept  my  poor  friend  a 
prisoner. 

"Poor  Donovan,  he  would  have  done  better  to 
have  remained  over  yonder.  It  was  for  my  sake 
that  he  came  back  from  Scotland,  and  he  tried  to 
make  me  understand  that  in  his  jargon. 

"  'For  you,  for  you,'  was  all  he  could  manage 
to  say. 

"For  me  !  Good  heavens,  what  had  he  become 
'for  me'  a  few  weeks  later  I 


148  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

"Now  listen !  Here  is  where  the  madness  comes 
in. 

"That  winter  it  was  snowing.  Lerne  was  taking 
a  nap  in  the  armchair  in  the  little  drawing-room — 
at  least  he  was  pretending  to  have  a  nap, 

"Donovan  gave  me  a  glance.  Pretending  to 
go  out  to  have  a  walk  in  the  snow,  which  was 
falling,  he  went  out  by  the  hall.  I  heard  him 
whistling  a  tune  outside.  He  moved  away.  I 
went  back  to  the  dining-room  to  help  the  maid 
clear  the  table.  Donovan  joined  me  there,  by  the 
door  opposite  to  that  of  the  little  drawing-room 
which  we  left  open  so  that  we  could  hear  Lerne's 
movem.ents. 

"He  flung  his  arms  round  me.  I  embraced  him. 
We  had  a  silent  kiss. 

"Suddenly  Donovan  went  green.  I  followed 
his  looks.  The  door  of  the  little  drawing-room 
has  a  glass  panel,  and  in  that  dim  mirror,  I  saw 
Lerne's  eyes  watching  us. 

"Then  he  was  upon  us.  My  knees  gave  under 
me.  Macbeth  is  a  little  man.  Lerne  flung  him 
to  the  ground.  They  struggle.  Blood  flows. 
Your  uncle  uses  his  feet  and  teeth  and  nails 
ferociously. 

"I  scream  and  tear  at  his  clothes.  Suddenly  he 
picks  himself  up.  Macbeth  is  in  a  faint,  and  then, 
Lerne  gives  a  wild  laugh,  flings  him  over  his 
shoulder,  and  carries  him  off  to  the  laboratory. 


THUS  SPAKE  MLLE.  BOURDICHET   149 

"I  keep  shouting,  and  then  I  had  a  sudden  Idea. 

'"Nell,  Nell!'  I  cried. 

"The  dog  came  up.  I  pointed  out  the  group  to 
her,  and  she  dashed  off  at  the  moment  when  Lerne 
was  disappearing  behind  the  trees  with  his  burden. 
She  disappeared  also. 

"I  listen.  She  barks,  and  suddenly  I  can  dis- 
tinguish nothing  more  than  the  rustle  of  the  snow. 

"Lerne  dragged  me  about  by  the  hair.  It  re- 
quired all  my  belief  in  his  promise,  and  all  his 
assurance  of  a  glorious  future,  to  stop  me  from 
running  away  that  very  day. 

"But,  having  caught  me  deceiving  him,  he  only 
loved  me  the  more  ardently. 

"Days  passed.  I  hardly  dared  hope  that  Mac- 
beth had  got  off  as  easily  as  Klotz — and  been  sent 
away.     Neither  he  nor  his  dog  appeared  again. 

"At  last  the  Professor  ordered  me  to  get  ready 
the  Yellow  Room  for  the  Scot. 

"  'Is  he  alive,  then?'  I  asked  without  reflection. 

"  'Only  half,'  said  Lerne,  'he  is  mad.  This  is 
the  sad  result  of  your  folly,  Emma.  First  of  all 
he  thought  himself  God  Almighty,  then  the  Tower 
of  London.  At  'present  he  thinks  he's  a  dog. 
To-morrow  he  will  suffer  from  some  other 
delusion,  no  doubt.' 

"  'What  have  you  done  to  him?'  I  cried  out. 

"  'Little  girl,'  said  the  Professor,  'nothing  has 


^150  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

been  done  to  him,  just  you  remember  that,  and 
bite  your  tongue  if  you  ever  think  of  gossiping. 
When  I  carried  off  Macbeth  after  our  struggle  in 
the  dining-room,  it  was  so  that  I  might  look  after 
him.  You  saw  he  fainted.  He  injured  his  head 
badly  in  his  fall.  That  caused  a  lesion,  and  then 
madness.     That  was  all,  you  understand?' 

"I  said  nothing  more,  because  I  was  certain  that 
if  your  uncle  had  not  put  an  end  to  Donovan,  his 
only  motive  was  fear  of  the  family,  and  the  law. 

"That  evening  they  brought  him  back  to  the 
chateau — his  head  all  wrapped  in  bandages.  He 
did  not  recognize  me. 

"I  still  loved  him,  and  I  visited  him  secretly. 

"He  got  better  quickly.  Being  shut  up  made 
him  put  on  fat.  The  Macbeth  of  the  photograph, 
and  the  Macbeth  of  the  Yellow  Room,  became 
very  unlike  each  other,  so  much  so,  that  you  did 
not  recognize  him  at  first." 

"But  tell  me — you  do  not  know  anything  about 
Klotz?  What  did  my  uncle  do  with  him?  You 
said  a  moment  ago  he  had  been  sent  away." 

"I  was  always  certain  he  had  been  sent  away. 
His  behavior  when  he  left,  and  that  of  Lerne 
when  he  came  back  from  Germany,  made  me  feel 
sure  of  it." 

"Has  he  a  family?" 

"I  think  he  is  an  orphan,  and  a  bachelor." 


THUS  "SPAKE  MLLE.  BOURDICHET    151 

"How  long  did  Macbeth  remain  in  the  labora- 
tory?" 

"About  three  weeks  or  a  month." 

"Was  his  hair  always  fair,  before  this  hap- 
pened?" I  asked,  still  riding  my  hobby-horse. 

She  said,  "Certainly,  what  an  idea!" 

"And  what  did  they  do  with  Nell?" 

"The  day  after  the  quarrel,  I  heard  her  howl- 
ing loudly,  no  doubt  because  they  had  separated 
her  from  her  master. 

"According  to  your  uncle,  whom  I  asked 
about  it,  she  was  with  other  dogs,  in  a  kennel. 
'Her  right  place,'  added  Lerne.  She  got  out  of 
it  the  other  night — perhaps  you  heard  her. 

"Poor  Nell,  how  quickly  she  found  out  Mac- 
beth was  gone.  She  often  howls  at  night-time. 
Her  life  is  not  happy." 

"Tell  me  the  end  of  it,"  I  said.  "What  is  at 
the  bottom  of  it?  What  is  the  truth?  Do  you 
believe  in  the  madness  which  resulted  from  the 
fall?" 

"How  do  I  know?  It  is  possible,  but  I  suspect 
the  laboratory  contains  horrible  things,  the  very 
sight  of  which  would  drive  any  one  mad.  Donovan 
had  never  been  in  it.  He  must  have  seen  some 
ghastly  things." 

I  then  remembered  the  chimpanzee,  and  the 
horrible  impression  its  death  had  made  upon  me. 
Emma    might   be    right.      The    incident    of   the 


152  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

monkey  strongly  supported  her  hypothesis,  but 
instead  of  trying  to  find  the  answer  to  each  riddle 
in  detail,  should  I  not  have  gone  back  four  years, 
to  that  critical  moment  when  so  many  problems 
had  started?  Should  I  not  have  studied  closely 
the  mysterious  period  when  so  many  doors  had 
closed,  in  order  to  find  the  key  which  should  open 
them  all? 

A  little  foot  peeped  from  the  coverlet,  and  lay, 
white  and  pink,  on  the  pale  yellow  cover;  it  was 
smooth,  and  like  a  strange  jewel  in  its  case. 

"Good  gracious,  my  dear,  can  you  really  walk 
with  that  pretty  little  thing,  with  its  nails  polished 
like  Japanese  corals — this  living  ticklish  jewel — 
that  a  mustache  drives  away." 

The  little  foot  went  back  into  its  cover,  but 
however  dainty  and  tender  and  quick  it  was,  it 
recalled  another  one  to  me  by  contrast — the  one 
In  the  forest  clearing — that  sinister  thing,  which 
I  now  felt  sure  was  a  piece  of  dead  flesh  in  the 
old  shoe. 

Suddenly  it  seemed  to  me  that  I  was  wandering 
alone  in  a  night  full  of  ambushes. 

"Emma,  suppose  we  run  away!" 

She  shook  her  Msenad's  locks,  and  refused. 

"Donovan  proposed  that  to  me.  No,  Lerne 
has  promised  me  I  shall  be  rich;  besides,  on  the 
day  3'ou  arrived,  he  swore  he  would  kill  me  if  I 


THUS  SPAKE  MLLE.  BOURDICHET  153 

deceived  him,  or  tried  to  escape.  I  found  out  long 
ago  that  he  could  fulfill  his  first  threat,  and  I  know 
now  that  he  could  carry  out  the  second." 

"That  is  true.  When  he  introduced  us  to  one 
another,  you  had  the  shadow  of  death  in  your 
eyes." 

"Now,"  she  went  on,  "we  can  hide  our  love, 
but  we  could  not  hide  our  running  away.  No,  no, 
let  us  stop  where  we  are,  and  keep  our  eyes  open. 
Let  us  be  careful." 

Half-past  four  was  striking  on  the  clock  when 
I  left  my  mistress,  in  order  to  return  to  Grey- 
I'Abbaye. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

RASHNESS 

I  MADE  my  way  as  fast  as  I  could  back  to  Grey. 
The  fete  was  in  full  swing,  and  the  crowd  of 
merry-makers  received  me  with  impertinent  re- 
marks and  jokes. 

Five  by  the  station  clock !  I  profited  by  the 
time  at  my  disposal  to  arrange  things  a  little,  so 
that  my  uncle  might  the  more  easily  fall  into  the 
snare  which  he  had  spread  with  his  own  hands 
when  he  set  me  the  task  of  repairing  part  of  the 
machine  of  which  I  had  a  duplicate. 

Having  put  on  my  blue  overalls,  dirtied  my 
hands  and  face,  taken  out  my  tool-box,  and  turned 
everything  in  it  upside  down,  I  slightly  dented  the 
new  carburetor,  with  light  taps  of  a  hammer,  and 
dirtied  it  with  blacklead.  With  a  few  scrapes  of 
a  file  I  succeeded  in  giving  it  the  sort  of  rough 
look  of  a  newly  forged  piece  of  metal. 

The  train  came  in.  When  Lerne  touched  my 
shoulder,  I  was  endeavoring,  with  a  great  show 
of  effort  to  screw  up  a  nut  which  was  already 
perfectly  tight. 

154 


RASHNESS  155 

"Nicolas  1" 

I  turned  towards  my  uncle  a  face  like  a  coal- 
heaver's,  putting  on  as  harsh  an  expression  as  I 
could. 

"I  have  just  finished,"  I  muttered;  "that  was  a 
nice  trick  of  yours,  getting  people  to  work  all  for 
nothing." 

"Does  it  work  all  right  again?" 

"Oh,  yes!  I  have  just  tried.  You  can  see  the 
engine  is  smoking." 

"Do  you  want  the  bits  I  carried  away  put  back 
into  the  carburetor?" 

"Oh,  no !  keep  them  as  a  remembrance  of  this 
happy  day,  uncle.  Come,  let  us  get  in,  I  have 
had  enough  of  standing  about  here." 

Frederic  Lerne  was  annoyed. 

"You  do  not  mind,  Nicolas,  do  you?" 

"Oh  no,  uncle,  I  do  not  mind." 

"I  have  my  reasons,  you  know.    Later  on  .  .  ." 

"All  right,  if  you  knew  me,  however,  you  would 
not  have  been  so  much  on  your  guard,  but  our 
agreement  justifies  all  you  did.  I  should  have  had 
no  right  to  complain." 

He  made  a  vague,  evasive  gesture. 

"You  are  not  angry,  that  is  the  main  point. 
You  understand  how  things  are,  don't  you?" 

Evidently  Lerne  was  afraid  he  had  vexed  me, 
and  that,  as  a  result  of  my  annoyance,  I  might 
disclose    the    existence   of    important    secrets    at 


156  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

Fonval,  even  though  I  might  not  be  able  to  inform 
the  right  people  of  their  nature. 

Weighing  all  the  facts  of  the  case,  I  felt  that 
my  presence  as  a  stranger,  free  to  depart  when  I 
liked,  must  have  been  a  subject  for  constant  alarm 
for  my  uncle.  It  seemed  to  me  that  in  his  place, 
had  I  been  obliged  to  receive  a  third  party  because 
of  his  relationship  with  me,  I  should  assuredly 
have  preferred  to  make  him  my  accomplice  as 
soon  as  possible,  so  as  to  insure  his  discretion. 

"After  all,"  thought  I  to  myself,  "why  has  my 
uncle  not  thought  of  it?  Before  the  uncertain, 
and  perhaps  illusory  date  when  Lerne  is  to  initi- 
ate me,  he  will  have  to  pass  through  a  long  period 
of  torment  while  he  exercises  over  me  the  double 
vigilance  of  an  analyst  and  a  police-officer. 

"Suppose  I  were  to  anticipate  his  project?  He 
would  doubtless  gladly  hasten  to  give  the  informa- 
tion which  Is  as  sacred  as  a  secret  of  the  con- 
fessional, and  which  would  unite  the  master  and 
the  pupil  in  the  same  plot. 

"I  do  not  see  why  he  should  take  my  advances 
badly,  for  in  either  of  the  two  possible  eventuali- 
ties, that  is,  whether  Lerne's  promises  to  initiate 
me  into  his  enterprise  are  made  in  good  faith  or 
not,  the  situation  to-day  has  only  two  issues — 
either  my  departure,  with  its  threat  of  revelation, 
or  my  connivance. 

"Now,  Emma  and  the  mystery  tie  me  to  the 


RASHNESS  157 

chateau,  so  I  shall  not  go;  there  remains,  there- 
fore, a  pretended  complicity  which  would,  more- 
over, have  the  advantage  of  allowing  me  to  solve 
the  puzzle — and  who  except  Lerne  could  reveal 
it  to  my  eyes,  since  Emma  knows  nothing  about 
it,  and  since  each  solved  problem,  if  I  investigated 
it  by  myself,  would  only  leave  another  one  to 
follow? 

"A  sage  diplomacy  might  certainly  persuade  my 
uncle  to  make  speedy  revelations;  that  is  what  he 
wants  to  do,  but  how  to  bring  him  to  do  it? 

"What  I  must  do  is  to  insinuate  that  his  secrets, 
however  criminal  they  may  be,  do  not  terrify  me, 
so  that  I  shall  have  to  pose  as  a  man  of  resolution, 
who  does  not  shrink  from  contact  with  crimes, 
and  would  not  think  of  denouncing  them,  because, 
if  need  were,  he  would  commit  them  himself. 
Yes,  that's  it! 

"But  how  to  hit  on  a  crime  which  Lerne  might 
perpetrate,  and  which  I  might  say  Is  natural  and 
harmless,  and  one  which  I  would  commit  on  the 
first  occasion  myself? 

"Good  heavens,  Nicolas!  Yes,  his  own  wicked 
deeds !  Tell  him  that  you  know  one  of  the  worst 
things  he  has  done,  and  that  you  not  only  approve 
of  it,  but  of  others  of  the  same  sort,  and  that 
you  are  ready  to  help  him  in  the  matter.  Then, 
after  such  a  declaration,  he  will  unbosom  himself, 
and  you  will  learn  everything,  with  the  intention 


158  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

of  using  this  confidence,  dictated  by  mere  self- 
interest  for  your  own  ends.  But  let  me  be  cun- 
ning. I  shall  only  speak  to  my  uncle  when  he  is 
in  a  pleasant  humor,  and  provided  the  evidence  of 
the  old  shoe  is  not  too  damning." 

So  I  reasoned,  as  I  took  Lerne  back  to  Fonval, 
but  after  my  stormy  afternoon,  my  ideas  were  not 
very  brilliant. 

Under  the  influence  of  my  environment,  I 
brooded  over  Lerne's  unproven  crimes  and  I 
imagined  them  to  be  detestable  and  innumerable. 
I  forgot  that  his  work,  carried  on  with  such 
secrecy,  and  secure  from  risk  of  imitation,  might 
well  have  an  industrial  aim.  In  my  impatience  to 
satisfy  my  curiosity  and  by  reason  of  my  exhaus- 
tion, this  strategy  seemed  to  me  a  brilliant  idea. 

I  underrated  the  enormity  of  the  fictitious 
avowal  I  should  have  to  make  before  getting  any- 
thing in  exchange. 

Further  reflection  would  have  indicated  the 
danger  to  me,  but  adverse  fortune  would  have  it 
that  my  uncle,  satisfied  by  my  answer,  and  seeing 
me  take  things  so  well,  affected  the  most  surpris- 
ing joviality.  Never  would  an  opportunity  more 
suitable  to  my  designs  present  itself,  so  I  thought- 
lessly seized  it. 

According  to  his  custom,  my  uncle  waxed 
enthusiastic  over  the  car,  and  made  me  maneuver 


RASHNESS  is<) 

as  I  went  through  the  labyrinth,  and  it  was  while 
twisting  and  turning  about  that  I  had  been  de- 
liberating in  the  manner  described. 

"Marvelous,  Nicolas,  I  tell  you  again,  It  is 
prodigious,  this  automobile !  An  animal — a  real 
organized  animal,  and  perhaps  the  least  imperfect 
of  all,  and  who  knows  to  what  pitch  progress  may 
lift  it !  A  spark  of  life  in  it !  A  little  more  spon- 
taneity! A  touch  of  brain,  and  behold  the  most 
beautiful  creature  in  the  world!  Yes,  more 
beautiful  than  we  are,  perhaps,  for  remember 
what  I  told  you — it  is  perfectible,  and  undying — 
two  qualities  of  which  the  physical  being  of  man 
is  pitifully  devoid. 

"Our  whole  body  renews  Itself  almost  entirely, 
Nicolas.  Your  hair!"  (Why  the  devil  was  he 
always  talking  of  hair?)  Your  hair  is  not  the 
same  as  it  was  last  year,  for  example.  It  comes 
up  again,  less  brown,  and  older,  and  in  smaller 
numbers,  whereas  the  automobile  changes  its  parts 
at  will,  and  get  young  again  each  time,  with  a  new 
heart,  and  new  brains  which  have  more  cunnlngj 
than  the  original  parts, 

"So  that  in  a  thousand  years  a  motor-car,  which 
never  ceases  to  improve,  will  be  as  young  as  it  is 
to-day,  if  it  has  been  put  to  rights  at  the  proper 
time,  bit  by  bit. 

"And  do  not  tell  me  that  It  will  not  be  the  same 
car,  since  all  its  parts  shall  have  been  replaced. 


i6o  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

If  you  made  that  objection,  Nicolas,  what  would 
you  think  about  man,  who,  during  this  race  to 
death,  that  he  calls  life,  is  submitting  to  just  as 
ridiculous  transformations,  but  all  in  the  nature 
of  decay. 

"So  that  we  must  come  to  this  strange  conclu- 
sion— the  man  who  dies  old,  is  no  longer  he  who 
was  born.  He  who  has  just  been  born,  and  must 
succumb  later  on,  will  not  die,  at  least,  he  will 
not  die  all  at  once,  but  progressively,  scattered  to 
the  four  winds  of  heaven  in  organic  dust,  during 
which  long  phase  another  being  forms  itself 
slowly  in  that  place  which  is  the  place  of  the  body. 

"This  other  one,  whose  birth  is  imperceptible, 
develops  in  each  one  of  us,  without  our  knowledge, 
as  the  first  one  crumbles  away.  It  supplants  this 
latter  day  by  day,  and  it  is  modified  continually 
by  the  death  and  renewal  of  myriads  of  cells,  of 
which  he  is  himself  the  sum  total.  He  it  is  who 
will  be  seen  to  die. 
[~  "I  tell  you,  Nicolas,  if  the  motor-car  were  by 
some  miracle  to  become  independent,  man  might 
pack  his  trunks.  His  era  would  be  near  its  end. 
Compared  with  him,  the  motor-car  would  be 
queen  of  the  world,  as  before  him  reigned  the 
L^mammoth." 

"Yes,  but  this  sovereign  queen  would  always  be 
dependent  upon  the  mind  of  man." 

"That  is   a  fine   argument.      Are  we  not  the 


RASHNESS  i6i 

slaves  of  the  animals,  and  even  the  plants  which 
unceasingly  rebuild  our  bodies  with  their  flesh  and 
their  pulp?" 

My  uncle  was  so  pleased  with  his  paradoxes, 
that  he  shouted  them  out,  and  fidgeted  about  in  his 
seat,  and  sawed  the  air  in  a  frenzy,  as  if  he  were 
seizing  ideas  in  armfuls. 

"My  dear  nephew,  what  a  splendid  idea  it  was 
of  yours  to  bring  this  car !  It  does  buck  me  up 
wonderfully.  I  must  learn  how  to  drive  the  beast. 
I  shall  be  the  mahout  of  this  fierce  mammoth. 
Eh!    Eh!    Ah!    Ha!" 

At  the  moment  of  this  outburst  of  hilarity,  I 
was  just  finishing  my  reasoning,  and  it  was  the 
outburst  which  caused  me  to  make  my  attack — 
and  to  commit  my  imprudence. 

"How  amusing  you  are,  uncle!  Your  gayety 
cheers  me  up.  I  recognize  you  again.  Why 
aren't  you  always  like  this,  and  why  do  you  dis- 
trust me — me,  who,  on  the  contrary — deserve  all 
your  confidence?" 

"But,"  said  Lerne,  "you  know  quite  well  I  will 
give  it  to  you  when  the  time  has  come.  I  have 
quite  decided  on  that." 

"Why  not  at  once,  uncle?" 

And  I  plunged  bald-headed  into  my  folly.  "Are 
we  not  made  of  the  same  stuff,  you  and  I  ?  You 
don't  know  me !     Nothing  can  astonish  me,  and  I 


1 62      .    NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

know  more  than  you  think!  Yes,  uncle,  I  share 
your  opinions  and  admire  your  acts." 

Lerne,  somewhat  surprised,  began  to  laugh. 

"What  do  you  know  about  it?" 

''What  I  know  is  that  one  cannot  trust  to  the 
law.  One  has  to  look  after  one's  own  affairs.  If 
some  one  happens  to  cross  your  path,  the  best  way 
is  to  get  rid  of  him  yourself,  and  such  a  removal, 
if  it  is  illegal,  becomes  legitimate.  A  chance 
incident  has  confirmed  me  in  this. 

"In  short,  uncle,  if  my  name  were  Frederic 
Lerne,  Mr.  Macbeth  would  not  be  living  so  com- 
fortably.   You  do  not  know  me,  I  tell  you." 

By  the  Professor's  voice,  when  next  he  spoke, 
I  perceived  I  had  committed  a  blunder.  He  de- 
fended himself  in  a  voice  which,  I  observed, 
betrayed  great  weariness. 

"Hallo  !"  said  he,  "this  is  something  new.  What 
an  idea !  Are  you  really  as  unprincipled  as  you 
make  out?  Well,  so  much  the  worse.  As  for  me, 
I  am  not  tarred  with  that  brush,  nephew.  Mac- 
beth is  mad,  but  I  had  nothing  to  do  with  it.  It 
is  a  pity  you  saw  him.  It  is  an  ugly  sight.  The 
poor  creature !  I  had  to  put  him  away.  What 
nonsense,  Nicolas !  What  are  you  going  to  in- 
vent next?  It  is  a  good  thing,  however,  you  have 
spoken  to  me  about  it.  It  has  opened  my  eyes. 
Appearances  are  indeed  against  me.  I  was  await- 
ing till  the  patient  got  better,  before  telling  his 


RASHNESS  163 

people  what  had  happened,  so  that  they  might 
be  less  affected  by  a  misfortune  whose  signs  were 
less  obvious;  but  no,  this  timorous  policy  is  too 
dangerous.  My  own  safety  requires  that  at  the 
risk  of  hurting  their  feelings  more,  I  must  inform 
them.  I  shall  write  to  them  no  later  than  to-night 
to  come  and  fetch  him.  Poor  Donovan !  His 
departure  will,  I  hope,  disprove  your  suspicion, 
but  you  have  disappointed  me  very  much, 
Nicolas." 

I  was  greatly  confused.  Had  I  made  a  mis- 
take, or  had  Emma  lied  to  me?  Or  else,  did 
Lerne  want  to  lull  my  suspicions?  However,  it 
was,  I  had  committed  a  great  piece  of  stupidity, 
and  Lerne,  whether  innocent  or  criminal,  would 
bear  me  a  grudge  for  having  accused  him  falsely 
or  otherwise. 

I  was  defeated.  All  I  had  gained  was  a  fresh 
doubt — this  time  in  regard  to  Emma. 

"In  any  case,  uncle,  I  swear  to  you  that  it  was 
only  by  chance  that  I  discovered  Macbeth." 

"If  chance  leads  you  to  discover  other  reasons 
for  maligning  me,"  replied  Lerne  harshly,  "do  not 
fail  to  inform  me  of  it.  I  shall  clear  myself  im- 
mediately. Anyhow,  the  strict  observance  of  your 
word  will  prevent  you  from  helping  any  chance 
which  should  favor  your  meeting  with  madmen 
...   or  madwomen !" 

We  had  arrived  at  Fonval. 


1 64  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

"Nicolas,"  said  Lerne,  In  a  gentler  tone,  "I 
have  a  great  liking  for  you.  I  wish  you  well. 
Obey  me,  my  lad." 

"Ah,  he  wants  to  soft-sawder  me,"  I  thought 
to  myself.  "He  is  paying  court  to  me  now. 
Look  out!" 

"Obey  me,"  he  went  on,  with  honeyed  sweet- 
ness, "and  show  by  your  reserve  that  you  are  al- 
ready my  ally;  intelligent  as  you  are,  you  must 
surely  understand  this  fine  point.  The  day  is  not 
far  off,  unless  I  am  mistaken,  when  I  shall  be  able 
to  tell  you  about  everything.  You  shall  then  see 
the  magnificent  things  that  I  have  dreamt  of,  and 
of  which  I  destine  a  share  for  you." 

"Meanwhile,  since  you  know  about  Macbeth's 
absence — come,  here  is  a  sign  of  the  good  faith  I 
ask  of  you.  Come  with  me  and  visit  him.  We 
shall  decide  if  he  is  strong  enough  to  stand  a  rail- 
way journey,  and  the  crossing." 

After  a  short  hesitation  I  followed  him  into 
the  yellow  drawing-room. 

The  madman  at  the  sight  of  him  humped  his 
back,  and  growling  recoiled  into  a  corner  with  a 
look  of  terror  and  a  revengeful  gleam  in  his  eye. 

Lerne  thrust  me  in  before  him — I  was  afraid 
he  meant  to  shut  me  in. 

"Take  hold  of  his  hands  and  bring  him  into  the 
middle  of  the  room." 


RASHNESS  165 

Donovan  allowed  me  to  touch  him.  The 
Doctor  examined  him  thoroughly,  but  obviously 
the  scar  attracted  his  greatest  attention.  In  my 
opinion,  the  rest  of  the  inspection  was  merely  a 
sham  for  my  benefit. 

The  scar — it  was  an  incised  crown  that  almost 
disappeared  under  the  long  hair;  a  wound  that 
went  round  the  back  of  the  head.  What  possible 
fall  could  have  caused  it? 

"His  health  is  excellent,"  said  my  uncle.  "You 
see,  Nicolas,  he  was  violent  at  first,  and  hurt 
himself  badly  all  over.  In  a  fortnight,  it  will  all 
have  disappeared.  He  can  be  taken  away.  The 
consultation  is  at  an  end.  So  you  advise  me  to 
get  rid  of  him  as  soon  as  possible,  Nicolas? 
Tell  me  your  opinion,  I  attach  value  to  it." 

I  congratulated  him  on  his  resolution,  although 
so  much  kindliness  kept  me  on  the  alert. 

Lerne  gave  a  sigh.  "You  are  right!  The  world 
is  so  evil-minded.  I  am  going  to  write  immedi- 
ately. Will  you  take  my  letter  to  the  post  at 
Grey?     It  will  be  ready  in  ten  minutes." 

My  nerves  relaxed.  I  had  asked  myself  as  I 
came  into  the  chateau  if  I  should  ever  come  out 
again,  and  sometimes,  even  now  the  demon  of 
unhealthy  dreams  shows  me  the  madman's  room 
as  a  dungeon. 

The  old  rascal  was  really  showing  himself 
paternal  and  benevolent;  though  he  could  dispose 


l66  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

of  my  liberty  and  Imprison  me,  he  sent  me  for  a 
run  in  the  fields,  which  might  have  ended  in  a 
flight. 

Was  a  freedom,  granted  so  readily,  worth 
profiting  by?  I  wasn't  such  a  fool  I  I  would  not 
make  use  of  it. 

Whilst  Lerne  was  writing  his  letter  to  the 
Macbeths,  I  went  for  a  stroll  in  the  park,  and  I 
there  witnessed  an  incident  which  made  the 
strangest  possible  impression  upon  me. 

As  has  been  seen,  fortune  made  ceaseless  sport 
of  me.  She  jerked  me  like  a  marionette — first 
towards  calm,  and  then  towards  trouble.  This 
time  she  used  a  trivial  cause  to  upset  my  mind. 
Had  I  been  feeling  more  at  ease,  I  should  not 
have  interpreted  what  was  perhaps  only  a  freak 
of  nature,  as  so  great  a  mystery,  but  marvels  were 
in  the  air.  I  felt  them  everywhere,  and  this  phrase 
was  always  sounding  in  my  ears : 

"Since  the  night  of  my  arrival,  there  were  cer- 
tain things  outside  which  should  not  have  been 
there." 

Those  that  I  saw  in  the  park  that  day — and 
which  I  insist  would  not  have  astounded  any 
ordinary  person  as  they  did  me — seemed  to  me 
to  fill  up  a  gap  in  my  evidence  with  regard  to  the 
Lerne  question. 

It  brought  that  study,  so  to  speak,  to  a  close. 


RASHNESS  167 

It  was  very  indistinct.  I  caught  a  glimpse  of  a 
solution  of  all  the  problems — an  abominable  one 
— but  my  ideas  were  not  precise  enough  to  express 
it  to  myself.  For  the  space  of  a  second,  however, 
they  were  of  unimaginable  violence,  and  if  I 
shrugged  my  shoulders  after  the  little  scene  which 
inspired  them,  I  must  admit  that  they  caused  me 
agony.  This  is  what  it  was :  Intending  to 
spend  my  ten  minutes  in  having  a  look  at  the  old 
shoe,  I  was  going  down  an  avenue  where  the 
evening  dew  was  already  moistening  the  high 
grass.  The  night  was  beginning  to  fill  the  under- 
wood. One  heard  the  chirping  of  sparrows 
growing  less  and  less  frequent.  I  think  it  was 
about  half-past  six.  The  bull  bellowed.  As  I 
rounded  the  paddock  I  could  only  count  four  ani- 
mals there — Pasiphae  was  no  longer  walking 
about  there  in  the  half-mourning  of  her  pied  robe, 
but  that  is  a  matter  of  no  interest. 

I  was  walking  slowly  on,  when  a  tornado  of 
whistling,  mingled  with  little  cries — a  mass  of 
shrill  squeakings,  if  I  may  so  say,  made  me  pause. 

The  grass  was  stirring.  I  approached  noise- 
lessly, stretching  out  my  neck. 

A  duel  was  going  on  there :  one  of  those  count- 
less combats  which  make  each  cart-rut  an  abyss 
of  death,  in  order  that  one  of  the  combatants 
may  feed  on  the  other. 

It  was  a  little  bird  and  a  serpent. 


i68  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

The  serpent  was  a  rather  imposing  viper,  whose 
triangular  head  was  marked  with  a  white  stigma 
of  the  same  shape. 

The  bird  looked  like  a  black-headed  wren,  with 
this  essential  difference,  however,  that  its  head 
was  white.  A  variety,  doubtless,  from  the  aviary, 
which  I  should  be  able  to  describe  less  awkwardly 
if  I  were  better  versed  in  natural  history. 

The  two  combatants  were  face  to  face — one 
approaching  the  other. 

Imagine  my  bewilderment!  It  was  the  wren 
which  was  forcing  the  serpent  to  recoil  1  It  ad- 
vanced in  little  quick  jumps,  without  a  quiver  of 
its  wings,  and  as  if  hypnotizing  its  enemy.  Its 
fixed  eye  had  the  magnetic  gleam  of  a  dog's  when 
it  points,  and  the  helpless  viper  was  recoiling  be- 
fore it,  fascinated  by  its  implacable  looks,  whilst 
terror  was  wringing  half-suppressed  whistlings 
from  its  throat. 

*'Deuce  take  it,"  I  said  to  myself,  "is  the  world 
upside  down,  or  is  my  mind  topsy-turvy?" 

I  then  made  the  mistake  of  drawing  too  near 
the  scene  in  order  to  witness  its  denouement,  and 
this  made  a  change.  The  wren  saw  me  and  flew 
away,  and  its  enemy  gliding  off  into  the  grass  left 
the  trace  of  its  passage  there  in  zigzags. 

Already  the  ridiculous  and  exaggerated  anguish 
which  had  frozen  me  was  dissipated.  I  took  my- 
self severely  to  task.     "I  must  be  half  bhnd!     It 


RASHNESS  169 

is  merely  an  example  of  maternal  love — nothing 
else.  The  heroic  little  bird  is  merely  defending  its 
nest.  One  does  not  realize  the  love  of  mothers. 
What  a  fool  I  have  been !" 

"Hallo  !  Hallo  1"  My  uncle  was  hailing  me. 
I  retraced  my  steps,  but  this  incident  haunted  my 
mind.  In  spite  of  my  assurance  that  there  was 
nothing  extraordinary  in  it,  I  did  not  speak  about 
it  to  Lerne, 

The  Professor  looked  cheerful.  He  wore  the 
smiling  expression  of  a  man  who  had  just  taken 
a  great  resolution,  and  is  much  pleased  at  it.  He 
was  standing  before  the  principal  door  of  the 
chateau,  the  letter  in  his  hand,  and  looking  at  the 
boot-scraper  with  interest. 

My  presence  not  having  interrupted  his  fit  of 
absent-mindedness,  I  thought  it  would  be  enlight- 
ening to  look  at  the  scraper,  too.  It  was  a  sharp 
blade,  mortized  into  the  wall,  and  generous  use 
by  many  soles  had  curved  it  into  the  shape  of  a 
sickle. 

I  presume  that  Lerne,  in  his  meditation,  was 
looking  at  that  knife  without  seeing  it.  Indeed, 
he  seemed  suddenly  to  wake  up. 

"Here,  Nicolas,  here  Is  the  letter!  Pardon  the 
trouble  I  am  giving  you." 

"Oh,  uncle,  I  am  used  to  it!  Chauffeurs  are 
messengers  despite  themselves.  Presuming  on  the 
pleasure  which  rolling  along  without  any  aim  is 


I70  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

supposed  to  give  them,  many  a  lady  asks  them  to 
roll  along  for  something,  and  to  cart  away  many 
lots  of  very  urgent  and  heavy  parcels.  Our  sport 
is  taxed  that  way." 

"Ah,  ha!"  says  uncle,  "you  are  a  good  fellow. 
Off  with  you,  the  night  is  falling!" 

I  took  the  sad  letter  which  was  to  announce 
Donovan's  madness  to  his  parents  in  Scotland — 
the  blessed  letter  which  was  going  to  send  Emma's 
lover  from  her. 

George   Macbeth    Esq., 
12,  Trafalgar  Street, 
Glasgow, 

(Ecosse). 

The  writing  of  the  address  gave  me  food  for 
thought. 

Only  a  few  vestiges  of  the  former  flowing  script 
made  it  resemble  Lerne's  handwriting,  but  most 
of  the  letters  and  the  general  appearance,  denoted 
a  "graphic  spirit"  the  exact  opposite  of  that  of 
long  ago.  Graphology  is  never  at  fault.  Its  de- 
crees are  infallible.  The  writer  of  this  address 
had  changed  altogether. 

In  his  youth,  my  uncle  had  given  proof  of  every 
virtue.  What  vices  were  now  not  his,  and  how 
he  must  hate  me,  he  who  had  loved  me  so  much  I 


CHAPTER  IX 

THE  AMBUSH 

The  father  of  Macbeth  came  to  fetch  him  with- 
out delay,  accompanied  by  his  other  son.  Since 
Lerne  had  written  to  him,  nothing  new  had  taken 
place  at  Fonval.  The  mystery  went  on,  and  more 
arrangements  were  made  against  my  person. 

Emma  no  longer  came  downstairs;  from  the 
little  drawing  room  I  heard  her  busy  with  her 
futile  amusements  in  the  lay-figure  room.  Her 
little  sharp  heels  went  tap,  tap,  tap  on  the  floor 
above.  My  nights  were  sleepless.  The  harassing 
idea  of  Lerne  and  Emma  together  kept  me  awake. 

I  tried  to  go  out  once,  to  take  a  walk  in  the  cool 
of  the  night,  and  so  weary  out  my  body.  All  the 
doors  down  below  were  locked. 

Ah !     Lerne  was  keeping  a  good  watch  on  me. 

However,  the  imprudence  I  had  committed  in 
revealing  my  discovery  of  Macbeth  had  no  other 
apparent  result  than  a  renewal  of  his  friendship. 
In  our  walks  which  had  now  become  more  fre- 
quent, he  seemed  to  take  more  and  more  pleasure 
in  my  society,  endeavoring  to  mitigate  the  rigor  of 

171 


172  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

my  spy-haunted  life,  and  thus  to  keep  me  at  Fon- 
val,  whether  it  was  really  to  train  an  associate  for 
himself,  or  merely  to  guard  against  the  risk  of  an. 
escape.      His  attentions  annoyed  me. 

This  was  the  period  when,  without  it  seeming  to 
be  so,  I  was  more  carefully  watched  than  before. 
My  days  were  filled  in  a  way  which  I  disliked.  I 
was  eaten  up  with  impatience,  between  love  on  the 
one  hand,  and  mystery  on  the  other — both  for- 
bidden ground  for  me.  Though  love  for  a  pretty 
woman,  who  was  inaccessible,  called  me  in  one 
direction,  the  mystery  also  attracted  me  as  im- 
periously in  the  other — that  mystery  which  was 
represented  by  an  old  boot. 

This  filthy  elastic-sided  boot  served  as  a  basis 
for  all  the  theories  which  I  built  up  at  night,  in  the 
hope  of  calming  my  jealousy  by  curiosity.  It  con- 
stituted, indeed,  the  one  clear  goal  to  which  my  in- 
discretions could  tend. 

I  had  noted  that  the  tool-house  stood  near  the 
clearing,  and  that  was  convenient  for  any  attempt 
to  unearth  the  boot — and  whatever  else  there 
might  be — but  Lerne's  displays  of  affection  kept 
me  pitilessly  away  from  the  hothouse,  the  labora- 
tory, Emma,  and  everything  else. 

So  I  ardently  longed  for  something  or  other 
new  to  happen,  which  should  revolutionize  our  re- 
lations, and  give  me  a  chance  of  escaping  from  the 
vigilance  of  my  guardians, — a  sudden  journey  of 


THE  AMBUSH  173 

Lerne  to  Nanthel — an  accident,  anything  from, 
which  I  could  derive  some  advantage. 

This  windfall  was  the  arrival  of  the  two  Mac- 
beths — father  and  son. 

My  uncle  having  been  Informed  of  their  arrival 
by  telegram,  announced  it  to  me  with  an  outburst 
of  delight. 

Why  was  he  so  pleased?  Had  I  really  en- 
lightened him  on  the  danger  of  keeping  Donovan, 
ill,  away  from  his  family?  I  found  it  devilish 
hard  to  believe  that.  And  then,  that  laugh  of 
Lerne's,  even  though  sincere,  seemed  to  have  a 
nasty  quality.  It  could  only  be  caused  by  his 
having  a  chance  of  playing  some  dirty  trick. 

But,  whatever  the  reason  was,  I  showed  the 
same  delight  as  the  Professor,  and  that  without 
any  guile,  for  I  had  every  good  ground  for  it. 

They  arrived  one  morning  In  a  trap,  hired  at 
Grey,  and  driven  by  Karl.  They  resembled  one 
another,  and  both  resembled  Donovan  of  the 
photograph.     They  were  tall,  pale  and  impassive. 

Lerne  introduced  me  with  perfect  ease  of 
manner.  They  shook  hands  with  me  coldly,  with 
the  same  glove-clad  gesture.  One  would  have 
said  that  they  had  put  gloves  over  their  souls. 

Having  been  ushered  Into  the  little  drawing 
room,  they  sat  down  without  a  word. 

With  his  three  assistants  present,  Lerne  began 


174  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

a  long  speech  In  English,  full  of  movement,  illus- 
trated by  mimic  gestures,  and  very  emotional. 

At  a  certain  point  in  his  story,  he  pretended  to 
tumble  back  like  somebody  who  had  slipped. 
Then,  taking  the  two  men  by  the  arm,  he  led  them 
to  the  central  door  of  the  chateau,  near  the  park. 

There  he  pointed  out  to  them  the  scraper, 
shaped  like  a  sickle  and  then,  once  more  went 
through  the  tumbling  farce.  No  doubt  he  was 
explaining  to  them  that  Donovan  had  been 
wounded  by  the  curved  blade  which  cut  his  head 
when  he  fell  backwards. 

Good  Lord  I  this  was  something  new  I 

We  went  back  to  the  drawing  room.  My  uncle 
finished  his  speech  with  wiping  his  eyes,  and  the 
three  Germans  tried  to  do  a  little  sniffling  to  indi- 
cate a  need  for  weeping  violently  suppressed. 

The  Macbeths,  father  and  son,  never  budged; 
they  gave  no  sign  either  of  grief  or  impatience. 

At  length,  Karl,  Johann  and  Wilhelm  went  out 
of  the  room  on  an  order  from  Lerne,  and  brought 
in  Donovan,  clean-shaven,  with  his  hair  greased 
and  parted  at  the  side,  and  the  appearance  of  a 
very  fashionable  young  blade,  although  his  travel- 
ing suit,  somewhat  worn,  dragged  on  the  buttons 
at  the  ail-too  narrow  collar,  sending  the  blood  into 
his  big  good-natured  face.  His  hair  almost  hid 
the  scar. 

At  the  sight  of  his  father  and  brother  the  mad- 


THE  AMBUSH  175 

man's  eye  gleamed  with  genuine  happiness,  and  a 
smile  lit  up  that  face  which  had  seemed  so  apathe- 
tic, with  affectionate  kindness. 

I  thought  that  he  was  restored  to  reason — but 
he  knelt  down  at  the  feet  of  his  relations  and 
began  to  lick  their  hands,  harking  inarticulately! 

His  brother  could  not  get  anything  else  out  of 
him.  His  father  failed  also,  whereupon  the  Mac- 
beths  prepared  to  take  leave  of  Lerne. 

My  uncle  spoke  to  them.  I  grasped  that  they 
were  declining  some  invitation  or  other  to  lunch. 
The  other  did  not  insist,  and  everybody  went  out. 

Wilhelm  put  Donovan's  trunk  on  the  box  of  the 
carriage. 

"Nicolas,"  said  Lerne  to  me,  "I  am  taking  these 
gentlemen  as  far  as  the  train.  You  will  remain 
here  with  Johann  and  Wilhelm.  Karl  will  come 
with  me.  I  leave  the  house  in  your  charge,"  said 
he,  In  a  jovial  tone,  and  he  gave  me  a  frank  hand- 
shake. 

Was  my  uncle  making  a  fool  of  me  ?  Not  much 
chance  of  being  master  of  a  house  when  there  were 
two  such  watchers  there. 

They  got  Into  the  trap,  Karl  and  the  trunk  In 
front,  Lerne,  the  madman  and  the  two  Macbeths 
behind. 

No  sooner  had  the  door  slammed,  than  Dono- 
van rose  all  at  once,  with  a  face  of  terror,  as  if  he 
had  heard  Death  sharpening  his  scythe. 


176  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

A  long  howl,  quite  distinct  from  all  others  rose 
from  the  laboratory.  The  madman  pointed  in 
that  direction,  and  replied  to  Nell  with  a  long- 
drawn  bestial  cry,  the  horror  of  which  made  us  all 
turn  pale. 

We  awaited  the  end  of  it,  as  if  for  a  deliverance. 

Lerne,  with  his  imperious  eye,  and  harsh  speech, 
gave  orders,  "Vorwarts,  Karl,  vorwarts,"  and 
without  any  consideration,  he  thrust  down  his 
pupil,  with  a  blow,  on  the  seat. 

The  carriage  moved  off. 

The  madman,  sitting  close  to  his  brother,  looked 
at  him  wildly,  as  if  he  were  the  victim  of  some  mis- 
fortune he  could  not  understand. 

The  dreadful  mystery  was  on  me  again.  It 
was  around  me,  coming  nearer  and  nearer.  This 
time  I  had  felt  the  touch  of  its  wings. 

Far  away,  the  bowlings  were  redoubled,  then 
the  elder  Macbeth  exclaimed,  "Nell,  where  is 
Nell?"  And  my  uncle  replied,  "Alas,  Nell  is 
dead." 

"Poor  Nell!"  said  Mr.  Macbeth. 

Duffer  as  I  was,  I  knew  enough  English  to 
translate  this  school-book  dialogue.  Lerne's  lie 
made  me  indignant.  To  think  of  his  daring  to 
say  that  Nell  was  dead,  and  that  that  was  not  her 
voice  !  What  a  piece  of  villainy !  Ah  !  why  did  I 
not  shout  out  to  this  phlegmatic  couple,  "Stop,  you 


THE  AMBUSH  177 

are  being  fooled!  There  Is  something  strange 
and  terrible  here !" 

Yes,  but  I  did  not  know  what  It  was,  and  the 
Macbeths  would  have  taken  me  for  another 
madman. 

Meanwhile,  the  hired  horse  trotted  along  to- 
wards the  gate,  where  Barbe  stood  ready  to  shut 
it. 

Donovan  had  sat  down  again,  In  front  of  them. 
The  Macbeths,  father  and  son,  maintained  their 
stiff  dignity,  but  as  the  carriage  turned  at  the  gate, 
I  saw  the  father's  back  suddenly  bend  and  quiver 
more  than  could  have  been  explained  by  the  jolting 
over  the  stones. 

Then  the  old  cracking  halves  of  the  gate  closed 
again. 

I  am  sure  that  the  brother  Macbeth  broke  into 
sobs  not  much  later. 

Johann  and  Wllhelm  departed.  Were  they 
going  to  relieve  me  of  their  company?  I  tracked 
them  along  the  park  as  far  as  the  laboratory. 
Nell  was  continuing  her  lamentations.  They 
probably  wanted  to  silence  her,  and,  in  fact,  her 
howls  ceased  as  soon  as  the  assistants  got  into 
the  yard. 

But  my  fears  were  groundless.  Instead  of 
going  up  to  the  chateau  to  lock  me  in,  the  black- 


178  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

guards,  having  lighted  cigars  coolly  sat  down  for 
an  obvious  siesta. 

Through  an  open  window  of  their  block,  I 
could  see  them  in  their  shirt  sleeves,  smoking  like 
chimneys,  and  rocking  in  their  rocking-chairs. 

When  I  had  assured  myself  of  their  intentions, 
without  asking  myself  whether  they  were  acting 
thus  against  Lerne's  orders,  or  with  his  consent, 
and  a  thousand  miles  from  thinking  that,  as  they 
puffed  away  at  the  open  window,  they  were  carry- 
ing out  his  instructions  point  by  point,  I  betook 
myself  to  the  tool-house. 

Soon  I  was  digging  at  the  ground  round  the  old 
shoe.     I  may  now  say,  "round  the  foot." 

With  its  point  upwards,  it  stood  up  at  the  bot- 
tom of  a  hole  where  Donovan's  nails  still  showed 
their  marks,  among  less  recent  scratches.  When 
one  examined  these  latter,  which  had  been  made 
by  strong  and  powerful  paws,  the  only  possible 
conclusion  was  that  the  first  digger  must  have  been 
a  dog  of  large  size — apparently  Nell,  at  the  time 
when  she  wandered  about  the  park  in  complete 
freedom. 

A  leg  was  attached  to  this  foot,  and  only  lightly 
covered  with  earth.  I  clung  to  the  possibility  of 
some  anatomical  debris,  but  without  much  convic- 
tion. A  hairy  body  followed  the  leg — a  whole 
corpse,  hardly  clothed,  and  far  advanced  in 
decomposition! 


THE  AMBUSH  179 

It  had  been  buried  aslant — the  head,  lower 
down  than  the  feet,  still  remained  buried.  It  was 
with  a  trembling  spade  that  I  uncovered  the  chin, 
whiskers  that  were  almost  blue,  then  a  thick 
mustache — finally  a  face. 

I  now  knew  what  fate  had  overtaken  all  the 
personages  who  were  grouped  in  the  photograph. 
.  .  Otto  Klotz,  half  unburied,  with  his  head 
in  the  earth,  was  lying  there  before  me! 

I  identified  him  without  any  hesitation.  It  was 
quite  unnecessary  to  uncover  him  completely — 
on  the  contrary,  it  was  best  to  fill  in  the  hole,  so  as 
to  leave  no  traces  of  my  escapade. 

However,  all  of  a  sudden,  I  seized  the  pick  in 
frenzy,  and  began  digging  away  by  the  side  of  the 
dead  man.  Here  rose  up  a  bone  like  a  white  and 
spongy  mushroom.  Were  there  other  things 
buried  there?     Oh  ! ! 

I  dug  and  dug.  I  was  In  a  fever.  White  spots 
flickered  before  my  eyes,  and  it  seemed  to  me  that 
tongues  of  fire  were  raining  on  my  maddened  eye 
like  a  pentecostal  deluge. 

I  dug  and  dug,  and  uncovered  a  whole  cemetery, 
but  thank  God!  a  cemetery  of  animals — some, 
mere  skeletons,  others,  with  their  feathers  or  fur 
— dry  or  oozy!  Guinea-pigs,  rabbits,  dogs,  cats 
— sometimes  whole,  sometimes  in  bits,  the  rest  of 
which  had  gone  to  feed  the  pack.  The  leg  of  a 
horse!     Ah,  dear  Biribi,  it  was  yours;  and  under 


i8o  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

a  layer  of  earth  which  had  been  recently  stirred, 
bits  of  butcher's  meat  wrapped  up  in  a  dappled 
skin — the  remains  of  Pasiphae  ! 

A  fetid  stench  choked  me.  Exhausted,  I 
leaned  over  my  filthy  pick,  in  the  midst  of  the 
charnel-house.  The  sweat  which  poured  from  me, 
stung  my  eyes.      I  was  gasping  for  breath. 

At  that  moment,  my  eyes  lighted,  by  chance,  on 
a  skull — that  of  a  cat.  Immediately  I  picked  it 
up.  It  was  a  regular  pipe's  bowl!  That  is  to 
say,  a  great  circular  hole  took  the  place  of  the 
crown. 

I  then  took  up  another — a  rabbit's,  if  I  re- 
member rightly.  Here  too,  was  the  same 
peculiarity. 

Four — sixteen  other  skulls,  each  showing  its 
gaping  hole,  but  with  some  differences  in  its 
position. 

Here  and  there  the  bony  tops  of  skulls  strewed 
the  clearing  with  their  large  or  tiny  cups — some 
deep — some  flat. 

One  would  have  said  that  all  those  creatures  had 
been  massacred  in  a  scientific  hecatomb — a  care- 
fully reasoned-out  sacrifice. 

Suddenly,  an  atrocious  idea  seized  me.  I  bent 
down  over  the  dead  man,  and  succeeded  in  getting 
the  mud  off  his  head.  Nothing  abnormal  in  front. 
His  hair  was  closely  cropped,  but  behind,  en- 
circling the  whole  occiput,  like  Macbeth's  scar, 


THE  AMBUSH  i8i 

from  one  temple  to  the  other,  a  horrible  cut  laid 
bare  the  broken  brain. 

Lerne  had  killed  Klotz !  He  had  suppressed 
him  because  of  Emma,  in  the  same  way  that  he 
knocked  the  life  out  of  animals  and  fowls,  when 
he  had  exhausted  their  power  of  enduring  his  ex- 
periments. It  was  a  surgical  crime.  I  now  im- 
agined I  had  probed  the  mystery  to  the  bottom. 

I  thought  to  myself,  "Macbeth's  madness  comes 
from  this,  that  Lerne  missed  his  blow.  The  poor 
doomed  creature  saw  a  dreadful  death  coming  on 
him.  But  why  should  my  uncle  have  missed  him? 
Perhaps  in  his  blind  fury,  he  suddenly  saw  clear, 
and  feared  reprisals  from  the  Macbeth  family." 

As  for  Klotz,  he  was  an  orphan  and  a  bachelor, 
as  Emma  assured  me,  so  there  he  is !  and  the  same 
fate  awaits  me — awaits  her,  perhaps,  if  we  are 
found  together ! 

"Oh,  to  flee,  to  flee,  she  and  I  together,  to  flee. 
It's  the  only  reasonable  plan,  and  opportunity 
favors  us!     Will  it  ever  occur  again?" 

We  must  make  for  the  station,  through  the 
forest,  in  order  to  avoid  Lerne  and  Karl,  who 
are  coming  by  the  road.  But  the  labyrinth ! — 
Perhaps  it  would  be  better  to  use  the  motor-car 
and  pass  over  their  bodies.  I  do  not  know,  we 
shall  see ! 


1 82  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

Shall  I  be  in  time?  Quick,  for  God's  sake, 
quick ! 

I  ran  panting,  striving  to  outstrip  the  light, 
swift,  unseen  feet  of  Death. 

I  ran,  twice  falling  and  twice  picking  myself  up, 
and  gasping  with  the  fear  of  that  Pursuer. 

The  chateau!  No  Lerne  yet!  His  felt  hat 
was  not  hanging  on  its  usual  peg  in  the  hall.  I 
had  won  the  first  lap.  The  second  was  to  get  us 
away,  without  return.  I  dashed  up  the  staircase, 
crossed  the  landing,  went  through  the  dressing- 
room  at  a  bound,  and  burst  into  Emma's  room. 

"Let  us  begone,"  I  blurted  out.  "Come,  sweet- 
heart, come,  I  will  explain  all.  There  is  murder 
being  done  at  Fonval!" 

"What's  the  matter?    What  Is  it?" 

She  remained  rigid  in  the  presence  of  my  ex- 
citement, standing  stiffly  up. 

"How  white  you  are.     Don't  be  afraid." 

Then,  and  then  only,  I  perceived  that  terror 
possessed  her,  and  that  with  frightened  eyes,  and 
bloodless  lips,  her  poor  dead  face  was  signing  to 
me  to  be  silent,  and  announcing  the  imminence  of 
a  great  danger,  close  at  hand,  too  close  for  her  to 
be  able  to  warn  me  of  it  with  a  gesture  or  a  sound, 
without  the  watchful  enemy  taking  revenge  upon 
her. 

And  yet,  nothing  happened.  I  took  in  the 
whole  peaceful  chamber  at  a  glance.     Everything 


THE  AMBUSH  183 

in  it  seemed  to  me  mysterious.  The  air  itself 
was  a  hostile  fluid — an  unbreathable  ocean  in 
which  I  was  sinking. 

I  felt  a  terror  of  what  might  happen  behind 
me.     I  waited  some  legendary  apparition. 

And  it  was  more  terrible,  this  apparition,  than 
the  sudden  appearance  of  Mephistopheles.  For 
it  was  heme  calmly  coming  out  of  a  wardrobe/ 

"You  have  kept  us  waiting,  Nicolas,"  he  said. 
I  was  thunder-struck.  Emma  sank  on  the  ground 
foaming  at  the  mouth,  and  twisting  about  under 
the  furniture. 

"Jetzt!"  cried  the  professor. 

A  rustle  of  dresses  in  the  next  room — I  heard 
the  lay-figures  fall.  Wilhelm  and  Johann  flung 
themselves  on  me. 

Bound!  Caught!  Lost!  And  the  terror  of 
torture  made  me  a  coward. 

"Uncle,"  I  entreated,  "kill  me  at  once,  I  beg 
you.  No  torture!  A  revolver;  the  dagger — 
poison  I  Anything  you  like,  uncle,  but  no 
torture!" 

Lerne  sniggered,  as  he  flipped  Emma's  cheeks 
with  a  wet  towel. 

I  felt  myself  going  mad.  Who  knows  if  Mac- 
beth's  reason  had  not  gone  in  a  moment  like  this! 
Macbeth!     Klotz ! 

The  hallucination  made  me  feel  a  sharp  pain, 
which  pierced  my  skull  from  temple  to  temple. 


1 84  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

The  assistants  took  me  downstairs,  Johann  at 
my  head — Wilhelm  at  my  feet. 

Were  they  simply  going  to  put  me  away  in  a 
locked  room ! 

A  nephew,  damn  it  all,  is  not  to  be  slaughtered 
like  a  chicken ! 

They  took  their  way  to  the  laboratory. 

In  my  fainting  condition,  my  whole  life,  day  by 
day,  passed  before  me  in  the  moment  of  a  heart's 
beat. 

The  Professor  joined  us.  .  We  went  past  the 
Germans'  block,  and  along  beside  the  courtyard 
wall.  Lerne  opened  a  door  on  the  ground  floor 
of  the  left  wing,  and  I  was  laid  out  under  the 
operating  theater,  in  a  sort  of  wash-house  that 
was  as  bare  as  a  sepulcher,  and  all  inlaid  with 
white  tiles. 

A  curtain  of  thick  cloth  hanging  from  a  rod  on 
rings,  separated  it  into  two  compartments  of  equal 
size.  * 

Its  atmosphere  was  that  of  a  chemist's  shop. 
There  was  plenty  of  light  in  it. 

They  had  set  up  against  the  wall  a  little  truckle- 
bed,  which  Lerne  pointed  out  to  me  saying,  "Your 
bed  has  been  ready  for  you  for  some  time, 
Nicolas." 

Then  my  uncle  gave  some  Instructions  to  the 
Germans,  in  their  native  language.     The  two  as- 


THE  AMBUSH  185 

sistants  having  unbound  me,  undressed  me.  Re- 
sistance was  useless. 

A  few  minutes  later  I  was  comfortably  lying  in 
bed,  with  sheets  up  to  my  chin,  and  tucked  in. 
Johann  alone  watched  over  me,  sitting  astride  on 
a  stool,  the  only  ornament  of  this  austere  place. 

The  curtain  drawn  aside  let  me  see  another 
folding  door — the  door  into  the  courtyard. 

In  front  of  me, — through  the  bay  window,  I 
saw  my  old  friend  the  fir  tree. 

My  sadness  increased.  My  mouth  had  a  bad 
flavor  in  it,  as  if  it  had  already  tasted  its  approach- 
ing decomposition. 

"Oh,  to  think  that  in  a  short  time  some  filthy 
chemistry  would  be  a  prelude  to  that!" 

Johann  toyed  with  a  revolver,  and  aimed  it  at 
me  every  now  and  again,  much  pleased  with  his 
excellent  joke. 

I  turned  round  towards  the  wall,  and  that 
caused  me  to  discover  an  inscription  engraved  in 
uncouth  letters  on  the  varnish  of  the  tiling,  made 
by  the  help,  at  least  so  I  thought,  of  the  jewel  in 
a  ring: 

"Good-by,  for  ever,  my  dear  father;  Donovan." 

The  unhappy  man.  He  also  had  been  laid  on 
this  bed — Klotz  also,  and  who  could  prove  that 
my  uncle  had  made  only  those  two  his  victims 
before  me;  but  I  cared  very  little. 

The  day  sank  into  night.     There  was  a  rapid 


i86  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

coming  and  going  above  us.  At  night  this  slack- 
ened and  ceased.  Then  Karl,  who  had  come  back 
from  Grey-l'Abbaye,  relieved  Johann  of  his  post. 

Almost  immediately  afterwards,  Lerne  had  me 
plunged  into  a  bath,  and  forced  a  bitter  liquid 
down  my  throat.  I  recognized  sulphate  of  mag- 
nesia. No  doubt  they  were  going  to  cut  me  up. 
These  were  forerunners  of  an  operation.  No  one 
is  ignorant  of  that  now,  in  this  age  of  appendicitis. 
It  would  be  on  the  next  day. 

What  were  they  going  to  try  on  my  body  before 
killing  it ! 

I  was  alone  with  Karl ! 

I  was  hungry ! 

Not  far  from  me  a  murmur  arose  from  the 
wretched  poultry-yard.  There  was  a  faint  sound 
of  stirred  straw;  timid  cackling,  strange  barks. 
The  beasts  began  to  moan. 

Night! 

Lerne  came  in.  I  was  in  a  state  of  wild  agita- 
tion. He  felt  my  pulse.  "Are  you  happy?"  he 
asked  me. 

"Brute !"  I  replied. 

"Very  well,  I  shall  administer  a  sedative."  He 
offered  It  to  me,  and  I  drank  it.  It  stank  of 
chloral. 

Once  more  I  am  alone  with  Karl. 

Songs  of  toads,  light  of  stars,  dawning  of  the 
moon,  uprising  of  its  red  disc.     Mystic  assump- 


THE  AMBUSH  187 

tlon  of  the  luminary  from  star  to  star.  All  the 
beauty  of  night.   .   .   . 

Then  a  forgotten  prayer — the  petition  of  a 
little  child — went  up  from  my  distress  towards  the 
paradise  which  yesterday  seemed  a  myth,  and  now 
was  a  certainty.  How  had  I  ever  doubted  its 
existence  ? 

And  the  moon  wandered  in  the  firmament  like 
an  aureole  in  search  of  a  brow. 

It  was  long  since  my  eyelids  had  closed  on  tears. 
I  fell  into  drowsy  delirium.  The  buzzing  in  my 
ears  became  a  hubbub.  (There  are  certain  noises 
almost  inperceptible,  which  seem  like  the  thunder 
of  cataclysms  far  away.) 

They  were  heaping  up  straw.  That  poultry- 
yard  is  exasperating.  The  bull  was  bellowing.  I 
even  had  an  illusion  that  it  was  bellowing  louder 
and  louder. 

Did  they  bring  It  In  every  evening,  along  with 
the  cows,  into  the  stall  of  that  strange  farm? 

Good  Lord,  what  a  row! 

It  was  while  my  mind  was  wandering  In  that 
way,  under  the  Influence  of  the  drug,  that,  con- 
demned to  death,  or  destined  for  madness,  I  fell 
Into  a  heavy  and  artificial  sleep,  which  lasted  till 
the  morning. 

Some  one  touched  me  on  the  shoulder.  Lerne, 
in   a  white   overall  was   standing  near  the   bed. 


1 88  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

The  murder  idea  had  sprung  up  again  instan- 
taneously and  clearly  in  me. 

"What  o'clock  is  it?  Am  I  to  die,  or  is  your 
business  over?" 

"Patience,  nephew.     Nothing  has  begun  yet," 

"What  are  you  going  to  do  with  me  ?  Are  you 
going  to  inoculate  me  with  plague,  tuberculosis, 
cholera?     Tell  me,  uncle." 

"No!" 

"What  then?" 

"Come,  come,  no  nonsense,"  he  said. 

He  withdrew,  and  revealed  an  operating  table, 
which,  lying  on  narrow  supports  like  an  open  bier, 
had  the  appearance  of  a  rack. 

All  the  sets  of  instruments  and  the  crowd  of 
bottles  shone  in  the  light  of  the  rising  sun.  Anti- 
septic dressings  lay  on  a  little  table  in  a  woolly 
cloud. 

The  two  nickel-plated  spheres  on  their  supports, 
showed  round,  like  divers'  helmets.  A  spirit  lamp 
was  burning  under  them.  I  nearly  fainted  with 
horror.  At  the  side  behind  the  curtain  something 
was  going  on.  A  penetrating  odor  of  ether  came 
from  it. 

The  secret,  the  secret  always! 

"What's  behind  that  ?"  I  cried. 

From  between  the  wall  and  the  curtain  Karl 
and  Wilhelm  appeared,  leaving  the  room  which 
had  thus  been  contrived  on  the  other  side  of  the 


THE  AMBUSH  189 

compartment.  They  also  had  put  on  white  over- 
alls, though  they  were  only  assistants,  but  Lerne 
had  seized  something,  and  I  felt,  on  the  back  of 
my  neck,  the  chill  touch  of  steel. 

I  uttered  a  cry. 

"Idiot!"  said  my  uncle,  "it's  a  clipper." 

He  cut  my  hair,  and  shaved  my  hairy  scalp 
close.  At  every  touch  of  the  razor  I  thought  I 
felt  the  edge  in  my  flesh. 

After  that,  they  soaked  my  skull  again,  dried  it, 
and  the  Professor,  by  means  of  a  soft  pencil  and 
calipers,  covered  my  baldness  with  cabalistic  lines. 

"Take  off  your  shirt,"  he  said  to  me.  "Take 
care,  do  not  spoil  my  diagrams." 

"Stretch  yourself  out  on  that,  now." 

They  helped  me  to  haul  myself  up  on  the  table, 
to  which  they  bound  me  fast,  with  my  arms  under 
the  bier. 

Where  was  Johann? 

Karl,  without  any  warning,  put  a  sort  of  muzzle 
over  me.     An  odor  of  ether  penetrated  my  lungs. 

"Why  not  chloroform?"  I  said  to  myself. 

Lerne  recommended  as  follows : 

"Breathe  deeply  and  regularly — it  is  for  your 
own  good.     Breathe !" 

I  obeyed. 

There  is  a  syringe  with  a  sharp-pointed  nozzle 
in  my  uncle's  hand. 

Hallo  !  he  has  pricked  my  neck  with  it! 


190  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

I  moved  my  jaws,  my  tongue  and  lips  feeling 
like  lead. 

"Wait,  I  am  not  sleeping  yet.  What  Is  this 
virus?" 

"Morphia,"  said  the  Professor  simply. 

The  anesthetic  was  gaining  on  me.  Another 
prick,  on  the  shoulder — this  time  very  sharp. 

"I  am  not  sleeping!  Good  heavens,  wait!  I 
am  not  sleeping." 

"That  is  what  I  wanted  to  know,"  growled  my 
executioner. 

For  some  moments  a  consolation  had  been  as- 
suaging my  torture.  Did  not  the  cranial  prepara- 
tions seem  to  show  that  they  were  going  to 
slaughter  me  without  delay?  And  yet  Macbeth 
had  survived  his  trepanning. 

I  seemed  to  get  far  away  Inside  myself.  Silvery 
bells  gayly  rang  a  celestial  chime,  which  I  have 
never  been  able  to  remember,  though  it  seemed  to 
me  unforgetable. 

Another  prick  on  the  shoulder,  which  I  hardly 
felt.  I  wished  to  say  again  that  I  was  not  sleep- 
ing. Vain  effort !  My  words  sounded  dully  sub- 
merged in  the  depths  of  an  invading  sea.  They 
were  held  lifeless,  and  I  alone  could  make  them 
out. 

The  rings  glide  along  the  curtain  rod,  and  with- 
out suffering,  on  the  threshold  of  this  artificial 
Nirvana,  this  is  v/hat  I  seemed  to  perceive. 


THE  AMBUSH  191 

Lerne  makes  a  long  incision  from  the  right 
temple  to  the  left,  round  the  occiput — an  incom- 
plete scalping,  and  he  brings  down  all  the  strips 
of  flesh  in  front  of  my  face,  making  my  forehead 
like  a  shambles.  From  in  front,  one  must  see  me 
with  the  bleeding  and  jumbled  head  which  I  re- 
membered on  the  monkey. 

"Help,  I  am  not  sleeping!" 

But  I  cannot  hear  my  cries  for  the  jangling  of 
the  silver  bells.  To  begin  with,  they  are  too  far 
down  under  the  sea,  and  now  the  sound  of  the 
bells  is  deafening,  like  great  church  bells  chiming 
with  a  formidable  din,  and  it  is  now  I  who  plunge 
into  the  ocean  of  ether. 

Am  I  living,  or  am  I  not?  I  am  a  dead  man 
who  is  conscious  of  being  dead.   .  .  . 

Even  more  so.   .   .   . 

Nothingness ! 


CHAPTER  X 

THE  CIRCEEAN  OPERATION 

I  OPENED  my  eyes  on  thick  darkness  in  a  place 
where  there  was  neither  noise  nor  smell. 

I  wanted  to  say  once  more,  "Do  not  begin,  I 
am  still  awake,"  but  no  word  sounded. 

The  delirium  of  the  night  was  being  prolonged. 
It  seemed  to  me  that  the  bellowing  had  got  nearer, 
so  much  so,  indeed,  that  I  seemed  to  hear  it  in 
myself.  I  could  not  manage  to  master  my  ridicu- 
lous senses.     I  kept  quiet. 

Then  there  grew  in  me  the  assurance  that  the 
mysterious  business  was  at  an  end. 

Gradually  the  darkness  lightened.  Uncon- 
sciousness was  coming  to  an  end. 

As  my  blindness  got  better,  smells  and  sounds, 
ever  in  greater  number,  were  like  a  welcomed 
crowd  coming  towards  me. 

"Oh,  happiness,  to  remain  thus — thus  for 
ever !" 

But  this  Inverse  death  struggle  came  ever  on  in 
spite  of  me,  and  life  seized  me  once  more. 

However,  objects,  though  now  distinct,  re- 
192 


THE  CIRCEEAN  OPERATION     193 

mained  shapeless,  without  perspective,  and  curi- 
ously colored. 

My  vision  embraced  a  wide  space — a  field 
vaster  than  before.  I  remembered  that  the  influ- 
ence of  certain  anesthetics  on  the  dilatation  of  the 
pupil,  a  phenomenon  which  no  doubt  brought  on 
these  disturbances  of  sight. 

I  noted,  however,  without  very  much  difficulty, 
that  they  had  lifted  me  from  the  table,  and  laid 
me  on  the  ground,  on  the  other  side  of  the  room, 
and  in  spite  of  my  eye,  which  functioned  like  a 
distorting  lens,  I  succeeded  in  recognizing  the 
situation. 

The  curtain  was  no  longer  drawn. 

Lerne  and  his  assistants,  grouped  round  the 
operating  table,  were  busy  about  something  which 
their  grouping  hid  from  me — probably  the  clean- 
ing of  instruments. 

Through  the  wide-opened  door,  one  could  see 
the  park,  and  hardly  twenty  yards  away,  a  corner 
of  the  paddock,  where  the  cows  were  ruminating 
and  lowing.  --, 

Only,  I  might  have  Imagined  myself  transported  | 
into  the  most  revolutionary  picture  of  the  im- 
pressionist school.  The  azure  of  the  sky,  with- 
out losing  its  limpid  depths,  had  changed  into  a 
fine  orange  dye.  The  paddocks — the  trees — in- 
stead of  being  green  seemed  to  me  to  be   red. 


194  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

The  buttercups  of  the  meadow,  st'arred  vermilion 
grass  with  violets. 

Everything  had  changed  color,  except,  however, 
the  black  and  white  things.  The  dark  trousers  of 
the  four  men  obstinately  remained  as  before,  as 
also  their  overalls,  but  those  white  overalls  were 
marked  with  green  stains. 

Green  stains  were  also  shining  on  the  ground, 
and  what  could  this  liquid  be  except  blood,  and 
what  was  there  astonishing  in  its  appearing  green, 
since  greenery  gave  me  the  sense  of  red? 

This  liquid  exhaled  a  pungent  smell,  which 
would  have  driven  me  far  away,  if  I  had  been 
capable  of  budging,  and  yet,  the  smell  was  not  that 
which  I  had  been  accustomed  to  associate  with 
blood. 

I  had  never  smelt  it,  any  more  than  those  other 
,  perfumes,  or  any  more  than  my  ears  remembered 
LJiaving  heard  sounds  like  these. 

It  was  strange  that  the  aberration  of  my  senses 
had  not  been  dissipated  along  with  the  vapors  of 
the  ether.  I  endeavored  to  fight  against  this  feel- 
ing of  .numbness.  No  use  !  They  had  stretched 
me  out  on  a  litter  of  straw,  of  purple  straw. 

The  operators  kept  their  backs  turned  to  me, 
except  Johann. 

Every  now  and  again,  Lerne  flung  into  the  basin 
cotton-wool  stained  with  green  blood.   .  .  . 

Johann  was  the  first  to  perceive  my  awaking, 


THE  CIRCEEAN  OPERATION     195 

and  he  told  the  Professor  of  it.  There  was  then 
a  movement  of  general  curiosity  with  regard  to 
me,  which,  breaking  up  the  group,  allowed  me  to 
see  an  absolutely  naked  man  bound  to  the  table, 
with  his  hands  under  it — motionless  and  white,  the 
color  of  wax,  like  a  corpse,  the  blackness  of  his 
mustache  making  the  paleness  still  paler,  and  his 
head,  enveloped  in  bandages  bedabbled  with  spurts 
of  green. 

His  breast  rose  rhythmically.  He  was  breathing 
in  the  air  with  all  his  lungs,  his  nostrils  quivering 
with  each  inhalation.  This  man — it  took  me 
some  time  to  accept  it — was  myself. 

When  I  was  certain  that  no  mirror  was  giving 
me  back  my  own  image,  which  was  an  easy  matter 
to  settle,  it  came  into  my  mind  that  Lerne  had 
doubled  my  being,  and  that  now  I  was  two.  .  .  . 

Or  else,  was  I  not  dreaming? 

No,  assuredly  not,  but  up  to  now  the  adventure 
had  not  got  beyond  the  bizarre  stage.  I  was 
neither  dead  nor  mad,  and  the  evidence  of  this 
cheered  me  mightily. 

(Protest  as  one  may  against  the  conviction 
which  I  felt  of  possessing  all  my  reason,  the  future 
was  to  confirm  this  rash  judgment.) 

The  man  on  the  operating-table  shook  his  head. 
Wilhelm  had  unfastened  him,  and  I  beheld  my 
other  self  awaking  to  a  faint-like  condition. 

Opening  eyes  like  those   of  a  blind  man,   he 


196  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

waggled  his  head  about  with  an  idiotic  air,  stroked 
the  edges  of  the  table  and  sat  up. 

He  did  not  look  at  all  well.  I  could  not  accept 
the  idea  that  my  double  should  behave  so  like  a 
brute  beast. 

They  laid  the  patient  in  the  little  truckle-bed. 
He  allowed  himself  to  be  patted;  but  soon  he  was 
convulsed  with  painful  vomiting  proving  beyond 
doubt  the  total  absence  of  communication  between 
him  and  me,  since  I  suffered  in  no  wise  from  his 
troubles,  except  mentally,  and  through  the  effect  of 
a  feeling  of  compassion,  which  was  very  natural, 
towards  a  gentleman  who  was  so  very  like  myself. 

Like  !  Was  that  only  a  replica  of  my  body,  or 
was  it  really  my  body? 

*  Bosh !  Absurd  I  I  could  feel,  see  and  hear — 
very  badly,  it  is  true,  but  enough  in  any  case  to 
convince  myself  that  I  possessed  a  nose,  eyes  and 
ears. 

I  made  an  effort,  and  cords  cut  into  my  limbs,  so 
I  had  flesh — flabby  and  benumbed,  but  still  flesh. 
My  body  was  here,  and  not  there. 

The  Professor  announced  that  he  was  going  to 
unbind  me.  The  hempen  thongs  were  undone.  I 
rose  with  one  shake,  and  a  complex  impression 
spread  terror  into  my  soul  and  made  it  sink. 

Good  Heavens !  how  heavy  I  was,  and  how 
short.  I  wished  to  look  at  myself,  and  there  was 
nothing  below  my  head,  and  as  I  bent  it  more,  with 


THE  CIRCEEAN  OPERATION     197 

great  trouble,  I  saw,  instead  of  my  feet,  two 
cloven  hoofs  which  ended  black  and  knotty  legs 
covered  with  thick  hair  I 

A  cry  arose  in  my  throat!   .  .  . 

And  it  was  that  nocturnal  bellowing  which 
broke  out  in  my  mouth,  making  the  house  shake, 
and  echoing  far  away  amongst  the  inaccessible 
rocks. 

"Hold  your  tongue,  Jupiter,"  said  Lerne,  "you 
are  annoying  poor  Nicolas  there,  who  needs  rest," 
and  he  pointed  out  my  body,  which  had  raised 
Itself  in  alarm  on  the  bed. 

So  I  was  the  black  bull !  Lerne,  that  loathsome 
magician  had  changed  me  into  a  beast ! 

He  abandoned  himself  to  brutal  enjoyment. 
The  three  servile  ruffians  held  their  sides  and 
guffawed,  and  my  ox's  eyes  learned  to  weep. 

"Well,"  said  the  sorcerer,  as  if  replying  to  the 
rush  of  my  thoughts.  "Well,  yes,  you  are  Jupiter, 
but  you  have  a  right  to  ask  me  more." 

"Here  Is  your  birth  certificate.  You  were  born 
in  Spain,  in  a  celebrated  ganader'ia,  and  you  come 
from  famous  parents,  whose  male  posterity  falls 
gloriously  with  a  sword  at  their  throat,  on  the 
sand  of  the  bull-rings.  I  rescued  you  from  the 
bandarillos  of  the  toreadors,  your  pedigree  suiting 
my  purpose,  and  paid  a  high  price  for  you — you 
and  the  cows.  You  cost  me  two  thousand 
piastres,  exclusive  of  carriage. 


198  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

"You  were  born  five  years  and  two  months  ago, 
so  you  can  live  as  long  again — no  more;  if  we  let 
you  die  of  old  age. 

"To  sum  up,  I  bought  you  in  order  to  try  some 
experiments  on  your  organism.  This  is  only  the 
first  one."  My  facetious  relative  was  seized  with 
an  attack  of  uncontrollable  laughter.  When  he 
had  exhausted  his  superfluous  gayety,  he  went  on: 

"Ah,  ha !  Nicolas !  you  are  all  right  aren't  you? 
You  are  not  at  all  uncomfortable?  I  am  sure 
your  curiosity,  you  son  of  woman,  your  infernal 
curiosity,  must  be  keeping  you  up  and  I  bet  that 
you  are  less  annoyed  than  interested.  Come !  I 
am  a  kindly  chap,  and  since  you  are  discreet  now, 
my  dear  ward,  listen  to  the  information  which  you 
desire. 

"Did  I  not  say  to  you,  'The  time  is  drawing 
near  when  you  shall  know  all?'  Nicolas,  you  are 
now  going  to  know  all,  and  indeed  it  would  not 
please  me  to  pass  as  a  devil — a  miracle-monger, 
or  a  sorcerer.  I  am  neither  Belphegor,  nor 
Moses,  nor  Merlin — I  am  just  Lerne,  tout  court/ 
My  power  does  not  come  from  the  outside,  it  is 
my  own,  and  I  am  proud  of  it.  It  is  my  science. 
All  that  one  could  say  by  way  of  correction,  is, 
that  it  is  the  science  of  humanity,  which  I  have 
continued  in  my  day,  and  of  which  I  am  the  most 
advanced  pioneer  and  chief  master. 


THE  CIRCEEAN  OPERATION     199 

"But,  do  not  let  us  be  conceited  !  Do  the  band- 
ages stop  up  your  ears?     Can  you  hear  me?" 

I  made  a  sign  with  my  head. 

"Well,  listen,  then,  and  do  not  roll  your  eyes 
about — all  will  be  explained." 

Good  Lord !  we  are  not  in  Wonderland. 

The  assistants  were  cleaning  and  arranging  the 
instruments.      My  body  was  asleep  and  snoring. 

Lerne  dragged  his  stool  up  beside  me,  and  sat 
down,  with  his  mouth  on  a  level  with  my  ear,  and 
discoursed  in  the  following  terms: 

"To  begin  with,  my  nephew,  I  was  wrong  a  mo- 
ment ago,  in  calling  you  'Jupiter.'  To  use  words 
in  an  exact  way,  I  have  not  metamorphosed  you 
into  a  bull,  and  you  are  still  Nicolas  Vermont,  for 
the  name  denotes,  above  all,  the  personality  which 
is  the  soul  and  not  the  body. 

"As,  on  the  one  hand,  you  have  kept  your  soul, 
and  as,  on  the  other,  the  soul  has  its  seat  in  the 
brain,  it  is  easy  for  you  to  argue  by  induction,  in 
the  presence  of  those  surgical  instruments,  that  I 
have  just  exchanged  Jupiter's  brain  with  yours  and 
that  it  now  lives  in  your  cast-off  body. 

"You  will  probably  say,  Nicolas,  that  it  is  a  dis- 
gusting pleasantry  on  my  part! 

"You  do  not  divine  either  the  supreme  object  of 
my  studies,  nor  the  series  of  ideas  which  has  in- 
spired them,  and  yet,  from  this  logical  series  is  de- 
rived this  little  pleasantry  derived  from  Ovid;  but 


200  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

it  is  possible  that  it  means  nothing  to  you,  for  I 
have  only  gone  in  for  this  by  the  way. 

"We  will  call  it,  if  you  like,  a  workshop  joke! 

"No,  my  ultimate  aim  does  not  reveal  itself  in 
this  form — a  funny  and  malicious  one,  you  will  ad- 
mit, but  puerile,  without  any  results  social  or  in- 
dustrial that  can  be  exploited. 

"My  aim  is  the  'introversion'  of  human  person- 
alities, which  I  have  endeavored  to  achieve,  in  the 
first  place,  by  the  interchange  of  brains. 

"You  know  my  inveterate  passion  for  flowers ! 
I  have  always  cultivated  them  with  the  utmost  en- 
thusiasm. My  earlier  life  was  absorbed  by  my 
profession,  which  was  interrupted  only  on  Sundays 
with  this  recreation — a  day's  gardening. 

"Well,  the  hobby  influenced  my  profession. 
Grafting  influenced  my  surgery,  and  in  the  hospital 
I  was  inclined  to  give  myself  up  more  especially  to 
animal  grafting.  I  became  a  specialist  in  that, 
and  grew  fond  of  it,  finding  in  my  clinics  the  en- 
thusiasm of  the  hothouse. 

"Even  in  the  beginning  I  had  dimly  foreseen  a 
point  of  contact  between  animal  and  vegetable 
grafts — a  hyphen  which  my  logically  conducted 
labors  made  clear  some  time  ago.  ...  I  will 
return  to  that. 

"When  I  took  up  animal  grafting  with  enthusi- 
asm, this  branch  of  surgery  was  languishing.  In 
fact,   ever  since  the  Hindoos  of  antiquity,  who 


THE  CIRCEEAN  OPERATION     201 

were  the  first  grafters,  it  had  remained  stationary. 

"But  perhaps  you  forget  its  underlying  prin- 
ciples. That  doesn't  matter.  Learn  them  afresh. 
They  are  based,  Nicolas,  on  this  fact,  that  animal 
tissues  possess,  each  of  them,  a  personal  vitality, 
and  that  the  body  of  an  animal  is  only  the  milieu 
adapted  to  the  life  of  those  tissues — a  milieu  from 
which  they  may  be  removed,  and  live  for  a  more 
or  less  long  time. 

"i.  Don't  the  nails  and  the  hair  grow  after 
death?  You  are  not  ignorant  of  that.  They 
survive. 

"2.  A  man  who  has  been  dead  for  fifty-four 
hours,  and  has  left  no  descendants,  still  fulfills  the 
chief  condition  for  remedying  that.  Unfortu- 
nately, other  essential  faculties  are  wanting.  But 
I  will  pass  on. 

"3.  In  certain  conditions  of  humidity,  oxygena- 
tion and  heat,  scientists  have  been  able  to  keep  a 
rat's  tail,  which  had  been  cut  off,  alive  for  seven 
days;  an  amputated  finger,  for  four  hours.  At 
the  end  of  those  periods  they  were  dead,  but  if 
during  those  seven  days  or  those  four  hours,  they 
had  been  cleverly  glued  on  again,  they  would  have 
continued  to  live, 

"This  is  the  procedure  employed  by  the 
Hindoos,  who  thus  restored  to  their  places  re- 
integrated noses  that  had  been  cut  off  by  way  of 
punishment,  or  if  those  appanages  had  been  burnt, 


202  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

they  replaced  them  by  noses  made  of  flesh  and 
skin,  taken,  my  dear  Nicolas,  from  another  part 
of  the  anatomy  of  the  man  who  had  been  punished. 

"The  operation  thus  effected  goes  into  the  first 
category  of  animal  grafting,  and  consists  in  trans- 
planting a  part  of  the  individual  to  himself. 

"The  second  consists  of  joining  together  two 
animals,  by  two  wounds  which  coalesce.  One  can 
then  cut  off  from  first,  the  fragment  of  his  person 
nearest  the  point  of  junction,  which  thereafter  will 
live  upon  the  second. 

"The  third  consists  of  transplanting,  without 
any  attachment,  a  part  of  one  animal  to  another 
animal,  always  in  such  a  way  that  it  preserves  its 
own  life.  That  is  the  most  elegant  way  of  the 
three,  and  the  one  which  has  attracted  me. 

"The  operation  was  regarded  as  a  ticklish  one, 
for  many  reasons,  the  principal  one  of  which  is, 
that  a  grafting  is  less  likely  to  succeed  the  further 
removed  the  two  subjects  are  from  one  another  in 
the  scale  of  relationship. 

"Grafting  succeeds  when  it  is  done  on  the  same 
animal;  less  well  from  father  to  son,  and  worse 
and  worse  from  brother  to  brother,  from  cousin 
to  cousin,  from  Frenchman  to  Spaniard,  man 
to  woman,  and  child  to  old  man. 

"When  I  came  on  the  scene,  the  exchange  I  am 
talking  about  always  came  to  naught  in  different 


THE  CIRCEEAN  OPERATION     203 

zoological  families,  and  more  so  still  in  the  case  of 

genera  and  species. 

"However,  some  experiments  are  an  exception 
to  this — experiments  on  which  I  have  based  my 
own,  wishing  to  accomplish  the  greater  thing,  be- 
fore successfully  accomplishing  the  lesser,  and  to 
graft  a  fish  on  a  bird  before  dealing  with  humanity 
alone.      I  say  a  few  experiments. 

"i.  Wiesmann  tore  from  his  arm  a  canary's 
feather,  which  he  had  transplanted  into  it  a  month 
before,  and  which  left  a  little  bleeding  wound. 

"2.  Baronio  has  grafted  the  wing  of  a  canary, 
and  the  tail  of  a  rat  on  the  comb  of  a  cock. 

"This  was  not  much,  but  Nature  herself  en- 
couraged me. 

"3.  Birds  cross  without  any  shame,  and  produce 
numerous  hybrids,  which  bear  witness  to  the  possi- 
bility of  fusion  between  species. 

"4.  Then,  getting  further  away  from  man,  vege- 
tables have  considerable  plastic  force. 

"Such,  reduced  to  its  simplest  expression,  is  the 
summary  of  the  situation  in  the  presence  of  which 
I  found  myself,  and  on  which  I  staked  all. 

"I  came  here  to  work  more  comfortably,  and 
almost  immediately  I  performed  remarkable  oper- 
ations, which  became  very  famous.  One  more 
especially.      I  wonder  if  you  remember  it? 

"X,  the  Pickle-King,  the  American  millionaire, 
had  only  one  ear,  and  desired  to  have  a  pair  of 


204  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

them.  A  poor  devil  sold  him  one  of  his  for  five 
thousand  dollars.  I  performed  the  little  cere- 
mony. The  grafted  ear  only  died  with  X  two 
years  later,  when  he  succumbed  to  indigestion. 

"It  was  then,  when  the  world  was  applauding 
my  triumph,  and  just  as  the  very  moment  when 
love,  having  come  on  the  scene,  was  urging  me  to 
make  money,  in  order  that  Emma  should  live  a 
life  of  luxury — it  was  just  then  that  I  conceived  my 
great  idea,  which  proceeded  from  this  reasoning: 

"If  a  millionaire,  dissatisfied  with  his  physique, 
pays  five  thousand  dollars  for  the  pleasure  of  em- 
bellishing it  a  little,  what  would  he  not  give  for 
changing  it  altogether,  and  acquire  a  new  body  for 
his  ego,  for  his  brain — a  covering  full  of  grace, 
vigor  and  youth,  in  place  of  an  old  sickly  and  re- 
pulsive casing! 

"On  the  other  hand,  how  many  beggars  I  know 
would  give  up  their  magnificent  anatomy  for  a 
few  years  of  jollification ! 

"And  observe,  Nicolas,  this  purchase  of  a  young 
body  would  not  only  furnish  advantages  of  supple- 
ness, warmth  and  endurance,  but  also  the  enormous 
advantage  that  in  a  youthful  milieu,  the  trans- 
ferred organs  are  rejuvenated. 

"Oh  !  I  am  not  the  first  to  advance  this  theory, 
and  Paul  Bert,  admitted  the  possibility  of  grafting 
an  organ  on  several  consecutive  bodies,  as  each  of 
these  latter  grow  old,  so  that  by  a  series  of  rejuve- 


THE  CIRCEEAN  OPERATION     205 

nations,  he  foresaw  that  one  might  make  the  same 
stomach,  the  same  brain  live  indefinitely — as  an 
integral  part  of  successive  constitutions.  This 
was  tantamount  to  declaring  that  a  personality  can 
live  indefinitely,  by  a  series  of  incarnations,  in  a 
journ^  through  different  carcasses,  each  discarded 
at  the  proper  moment. 

"The  discovery  to  be  made  surpassed  my  hopes. 
I  was  not  only  pursuing  the  choice  of  a  pleasing 
outward  appearance — I  had  my  hand  on  the  secret 

of  IMMORTALITY  !  ^ 

"The  brain  being  the  seat  of  the  ego  (for  you 
know  that  the  spinal  cord  is  only  a  transmitter,  and 
a  center  of  reflexes),  the  only  question  was  abihty 
to  graft. 

"Certainly  the  ear  is  one  thing  and  the  brain 
another  and  yet  this  difference  is  only  a  question  of 
the  degrees  which  separate : 

"i.  Cartilaginous  matter  from  the  nerve  mat- 
ter, and 

"2.  The  accessory  from  the  principal  organ. 

"Logic  backed  up  my  conviction,  and  my  reason- 
ing was  based  on  famous  premises  officially 
verified. 

"i.  Besides  their  grafts  of  mucous  membrane, 
skin,  etc.,  in  1861,  Phillippeaux  and  Vulpian  re- 
placed the  nerve  matter  in  an  optic  nerve. 

"2.  In  1880,  Gluck  exchanged  a  few  centimeters 
of  sciatic  nerve  in  a  hen  for  a  rabbit's  nerves. 


2o6  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

"3.  In  1890,  Thompson  removed  a  few  cubic 
centimeters  of  brain  from  dogs  and  cats,  and  into 
the  cavity  thus  obtained,  introduced  the  same  quan- 
tity of  cerebral  substance  taken  from  dogs  and 
cats,  or  from  different  species.  Here  we  have 
passed  from  cartilage  to  nerve,  and  from  ear  to 
fragment  of  brain. 

"Let  us  now  turn  to  the  difficulty  of  the  second 
order: 

*'i.  Gardeners  often  graft  whole  organisms. 

"2.  Besides  fingers,  tails  and  paws,  Phillippeaux 
and  Mantegazza  grafted  rather  important  organs 
— spleens,  stomachs  and  tongues.  They  made  a 
hen  into  a  cock  as  a  joke,  they  even  tried  to  graft 
the  pancreas  and  the  thyroid. 

"3.  Carrel  and  Guthrey,  in  1905,  in  New  York, 
came  to  believe  that  they  can  substitute  the  veins 
of  the  arteries  of  animals  for  those  of  man.  We 
have  bridged  the  distance  between  the  accessory 
and  the  principal. 

"4.  Finally,  Mantegazza  maintained  that  he 
had  grafted  spinal  cords  and  brains  of  frogs ! 

"These  examples  were  ample  proof  that  my 
projects  were  realizable,  so  I  said  to  myself  I 
would  realize  them. 

"I  began  my  task.     An  obstacle  was  in  the  way  I 
"It  being  impracticable  to  employ  an  'attach- 
ment,' it  resulted  that  the  body  and  the  brain, 


THE  CIRCEEAN  OPERATIOiN     207 

once  separated,  perished,  one  or  other,  or  both, 
before  having  been  placed  in  contact  with  their 
new  companions. 

"But  here  again  facts  gave  me  courage.  So  far 
as  the  body  is  concerned : 

"i.  An  animal  can  live  quite  well  with  one  cere- 
bral lobe.  You  saw  a  pigeon  circling  round, 
which  has  been  deprived  of  three-fourths  of  its 
brain ! 

"2.  Often  decapitated  ducks  fly  for  a  hundred 
yards  from  the  block  on  which  their  severed  head 
remains. 

"3.  A  locust  lived  for  fifteen  days  without  a 
head — fifteen ! 

"That  Is  an  experiment  duly  attested. 

"So  far  as  the  severed  organ  Is  concerned,  there 
were  these  certified  cases. 

"This  persuaded  me  that  the  brain  and  the  body. 
If  properly  treated,  would  be  able  to  live,  each 
independently,  for  the  few^  minutes  of  separation 
which  the  work  requires.  However  that  may  be, 
the  necessary  slowness  of  trepanning  induced  me 
as  a  rule  to  exchange  not  brains,  but  heads,  having 
learned  from  Brown  Sequard  that  a  dog's  head  In- 
jected with  oxyginated  blood,  had  survived  de- 
capitation a  quarter-of-an-hour. 

"From  this  period  date  heteroclite  creatures — a 
donkey  with  a  horse's  head — a  goat  with  a  stag's 
head — which  I  should  like  to  have  preserved,  be- 


2o8  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

cause  the  beasts  which  composed  them  were  some- 
what distant  from  one  another,  although  they 
belonged  to  the  same  family — a  distance  which  I 
have  never  been  able  to  increase  by  this  means. 

"Alas  I  on  the  night  of  your  arrival,  Wilhelm 
left  the  doors  open,  and  those  monsters,  worthy  of 
Dr.  Moreau,  escaped,  with  many  other  subjects 
which  were  under  observation.  You  may  boast  of 
having  come  into  Fonval  like  a  bull  into  a  china 
shop ! 

"I  resume;  but  In  order  to  avoid  exhausting  the 
attention  of  a  convalescent,  I  shall  pass  over,  as 
far  as  details  are  concerned,  the  abandonment  of 
this  method,  the  discovery  of  the  Lerne  trepanner 
with  an  ultra-rapid-circular-saw,  that  of  the  brain- 
preserving  globes  or  artificial  meninges,  that  of 
the  ointment  for  joining  nerves,  the  recognized 
efficacy  of  the  injection  of  morphia,  approved  of 
by  Broca,  for  contracting  the  blood  vessels,  and  so 
diminishing  the  loss  of  blood,  the  generally  ac- 
cepted employment  of  ether  as  an  anesthetic,  the 
manipulation  of  brains  for  the  purpose  of  fitting 
them  exactly  to  skulls,  etc.,  etc. 

"Thanks  to  all  that,  I  exchanged  the  personali- 
ties of  a — ah,  I  can  never  remember  that  word — 
squirrel  and  a  wood-pigeon.  That  wasn't  badl 
Then  that  of  a  wren  and  a  viper.  Then  that  of  a 
carp  and  a  blackbird — hot  blood  and  cold  blood. 
It  was  perfect! 


THE  CIRCEEAN  OPERATION     209 

"In  face  of  these  prodigies,  my  aim,  that  of  hu- 
man substitution  was  mere  child's  play. 

"At  this  juncture  Karl  and  Wilhelm  volunteered 
to  submit  themselves  to  the  convincing  test.  It 
was  quite  epic.  Otto  Klotz  had  left  me.  Hum  I 
Macbeth  was  not  to  be  trusted!  I  operated 
alone,  with  the  help  of  Johann  and  automatic 
machines. 

"Success!  ah!  what  fine  fellows!  Who  would 
have  imagined  that  whole  bodies  had  been  ampu- 
tated? and  yet,  each  of  them,  ever  since  that  day, 
lives  in  the  carnal  abode  of  his  friend.     Look!" 

He  summoned  his  assistants,  and  raising  their 
hair,  showed  the  violet  colored  scar. 

The  two  Germans  smiled  at  one  another,  and 
I  could  not  prevent  myself  from  admiring  them. 

Lerne  went  on : 

"My  fortune,  then,  was  made,  and  at  one  stroke, 
I  was  assuring  my  own  and  Emma's  happiness, 
and  her  love,  which  is  my  most  inestimable  pos- 
session, Nicolas. 

"But  the  discovery,  one  certain,  had  to  be 
applied. 

"To  tell  the  truth,  one  dark  spot  worried  me. 
I  mean  the  influence  of  the  moral  side  on  the  phys- 
ical and  vice  versa. 

"At  the  end  of  a  few  months  my  patients  be- 
came modified.  If  I  had  endowed  their  body  with 
a  mentality  finer  than  before,  the  latter  ruined  the 


2IO  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

former,  and  I  have  seen,  amongst  others,  pigs  with 
a  dog's  brain  become  ill  and  thin,  and  die  soon. 

"On  the  other  hand,  intellects  coarser  than  their 
predecessors,  allow  themselves  to  be  overcome  by 
the  corporal  part,  and  the  composite  animal  then 
becomes  stupider  and  fatter.  That  is  an  invari- 
able rule. 

"Sometimes,  also,  the  imperious  flesh  refashions 
the  mind  according  to  the  instincts  of  brutal 
matter. 

"One  of  my  wolves,  my  dear  nephew,  installed 
cruelty  in  the  brain  of  a  sheep !  But  this  draw- 
back was  bound,  was  it  not,  in  the  case  of  my  fu- 
ture clients — men — to  reduce  itself  to  slight  in- 
differences of  health  and  character?  It  was  not 
worth  thinking  about,  and  it  did  not  give  me  any 
pause. 

"Not  caring  to  leave  Macbeth  vAth.  Emma,  I 
sent  him  off  to  Scotland,  and  I  set  out  towards 
America — the  land  of  audacity,  of  millions,  and 
of  the  grafted  ear — as  it  seemed  to  me  the  best 
soil  to  cultivate. 

"That  was  two  years  ago. 

"The  day  after  my  landing,  I  had  thirty-five 
rufiians  at  my  disposal,  who  were  resolved  to  part 
with  an  impeccable  bodily  constitution,  for  the 
benefit  of  any  thirty-five  millionaires  I  should  get 
to  know,  teach  and  convince. 

"Check! 


THE  CIRCEEAN  OPERATION     211 

"I  began  with  the  most  dreadful  ones,  and  the 
most  unhealthy. 

"Some  called  me  a  madman  and  showed  me  the 
door.  Others  got  angry,  looking  me  majestically 
up  and  down  with  displeasure  in  their  eyes,  thrust- 
ing out  very  consumptive  chests  or  flabby  thoraxes ; 
or  they  drew  themselves  to  their  full  height  on 
their  twisted  legs  and  expressed  astonishment  that 
anybody  should  think  them  ugly. 

"Those  who  were  dying  were  sure  they  would 
get  well — surer  than  that  they  would  not  collapse 
under  the  ether. 

"Some  showed  fear.  'It  was  tempting  Provi- 
dence !'  They  stood  aloof  from  me  as  from  the 
Devil,  and  some  of  them  would  have  sprinkled  me 
with  Holy  Water. 

"It  was  no  use  my  declaring,  In  answer  to  them, 
that  man  is  modified  more  completely  in  the  course 
of  his  life  than  they  would  change  under  my 
lancet,  and  that  religious  doctrine  has  traveled 
some  way  since  1670,  when  that  Russian  was  ex- 
communicated, for  having  had  his  skull  mended 
with  a  piece  of  a  dog's  bone. 

"It  was  no  use. 

"Many  sententlously  remarked,  'One  knows 
what  one  has  got — one  does  not  know  what  one  Is 
getting.' 

"Would  you  believe  it !  The  women  nearly 
saved  me!     Crowds  of  them  aspired  to  become 


212  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

men.  Fortunately,  my  blackguards — except  one 
or  two — categorically  refused  to  adopt  the  female 
sex. 

"In  despair,  I  dangled  before  them  the  attrac- 
tive prospect  of  a  life  prolonged  indefinitely,  re- 
suming its  course  at  each  new  incarnation. 

"  'Life,  replied  the  three-score-years-and-ten- 
ners,  is  already  too  long,  as  God  has  limited  it. 
We  desire  nothing  more  than  to  die.' 

"  'But  I  shall  restore  to  you  all  your  desires,  at 
the  same  time  as  your  youth.' 

"  'Thank  you,  the  fate  of  desires  is  to  remain 
ungratified!' 

"Amongst  adults  I  often  received  this  reply: 

"  'The  charm  of  acquired  experience  is  worth 
preserving  from  all  things  that  might  lessen  that 
experience,  and  let  us  not  risk  diminishing  it 
through  the  inexperienced  rashness  of  adolescent 
blood.'  " 

"There  were  some,  however,  who  were  ready  to 
imitate  Faust,  and  sign  the  pact  of  youth,  but  all 
these  Nabobs  I  sounded  offered  me  the  same  ob- 
jection— the  danger  of  the  operation — the  folly  of 
risking  life  in  the  desire  to  prolong  life. 

"To  tell  you  the  truth,  Nicolas,  the  only  people 
who  allow  themselves  to  be  operated  on  without 
any  qualms,  are  young  people  at  the  point  of 
death,  and  aware  of  their  state. 

"Understanding  the  necessity  of  overcoming  the 


THE  CIRCEEAN  OPERATION     213 

danger  they  apprehended,  I  felt  ready  for  new  re- 
searches— but  greatly  disillusioned,  thencefor- 
ward knowing  that  even  were  these  rewarded  by 
a  second  discovery,  my  clients  would  be  few,  but 
also  aware  that  they  would  be  sufficient  to  secure 
me  my  fortune  and  happiness.  But  all  this  was 
deferred  till  the  Greek  Calends. 

"I  came  back  to  Fonval — bitter,  silent,  and  with 
rage  in  my  heart. 

"Emma  and  Donovan  could  not  have  found  a 
more  implacable  judge.  I  surprised  them.  I 
took  my  revenge.  You  have  guessed  it,  have  you 
not?  Yesterday,  the  two  Macbeths  carried  off 
the  brain  of  Nell,  and  the  soul  of  Donovan  is 
lodged  in  the  body  of  the  St.  Bernard  1 

"The  same  punishment  awaited  both  of  you  for 
the  same  fault.  Solomon  could  not  have  better 
judged,  nor  Circe  have  better  carried  the  sentence 
into  execution. 

"Now,  look  here,  nephew  I  I  have  worked  at 
what,  but  for  your  intrusion,  and  my  need  for 
watching  your  acts,  w^ould  in  a  few  daysj  have  been 
the  beginning  of  the  interchange  of  personalities 
without  surgical  intervention. 

"I  was  wise  enough,  you  see,  not  to  give  up  my 
vegetable  grafting.  I  had  even  carried  all  its  de- 
velopments very  far,   and  this  training,  supple- 


214  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

merited  by  my  zoological  experiments,  constitutes 
almost  the  whole  curriculum  of  grafting. 

"It  was  the  combination  of  this  science  with 
other  sciences,  which  revealed  the  probable  solu- 
tion to  me. 

"People  never  generalize  enough,  Nicolas !  De- 
voted to  interminable  subdivision,  fanatical  about 
the  infinitely  little,  which  is  always  becoming  infi- 
nitely less,  we  have  a  mania  for  analysis.  We  live 
with  our  eyes  glued  to  microscopes.  In  half  our  in- 
vestigations we  should  employ  another  instrument 
to  show  things  as  wholes — an  apparatus  of  optical 
synthesis — a  synoptic  telescope,  or  if  you  prefer  to 
call  it  so,  a  megaloscope, 

"I  foresee  a  colossal  discovery!  And  to  think 
that  but  for  Emma,  I  should  have  disdained  finan- 
cial rewards  and  never  aspired  to  wealth  I  So 
that  love  caused  ambition,  and  ambition  brought 
glory ! 

"Apropos  of  this,  nephew,  you  very  nearly  put 
on  the  features  of  Professor  Lerne !  Yes,  she 
adored  you  with  such  a  fine  ardor,  nephew,  that  I 
thought  of  disguising  my  appearance  by  assuming 
with  your  features,  in  order  to  be  loved  in  your 
place.   .   .   . 

"That  would  have  been  the  very  best  revenge, 
and  very  piquant,  but  I  have  still  need,  for  some 
time,  of  my  antique  and  awkward  carcass.  Later 
on   we   shall   see   about   getting  rid   of   this   old 


THE  CIRCEEAN  OPERATION     215 

trumpery  frame.  Is  not  your  captivating  appear- 
ance always  at  my  disposal?" 

At  those  sarcastic  words,  my  weeping  was 
redoubled. 

My  uncle  went  on,  affecting  consideration  for 
me. 

"Ah  I  I  am  abusing  your  courage,  my  dear 
patient.  Have  a  rest.  The  satisfaction  of  your 
curiosity  will  give  you,  I  hope,  a  refreshing  sleep. 

"Ah!  I  was  forgetting!  Do  not  be  astonished 
if  the  world  appears  to  you  other  than  it  was 
.  .  .  Amongst  other  novelties,  things  must  be  seen 
by  you  as  flat  as  in  a  photograph.  That  is  be- 
cause you  look  at  things  only  with  one  eye  at  a 
time,  so  that  one  might  say — using  the  terms  jocu- 
larly, that  many  animals  are  only  double  one-eyed 
things.  Their  sight  is  not  steroscopic.  Other 
eyes — other  phenomena. 

"New  ear-drums,  other  sounds,  and  so  on! 

"Amongst  men,  themselves,  each  one  has  his 
manner  of  appreciating  things.  Habit  teaches  us, 
for  example,  that  we  must  call  a  certain  color  red, 
but  a  man  who  calls  it  red  receives  from  it  a  green 
impression — that  is  a  common  occurrence,  and  an- 
other, an  impression  of  olive  or  dark  blue." 

"Well,  good-night!" 

No,  my  curiosity  was  not  satisfied,  but  I  realized 
that  that  was  so  without  being  able  to  fix  the 


2i6  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

points  which  my  uncle  had  not  made  clear,  for  my 
awful  experience  overwhelmed  me  with  anguish, 
and  the  Circeean  operation  left  me  impregnated 
with  ether,  whose  penetrating  vapors  upset  in  me 
the  man's  understanding  and  the  bull's  stomach. 


CHAPTER  XI 

IN  THE   PADDOCK 

During  the  eight  days  of  my  convalescence  in 
the  laboratory,  nursed  and  kept  quiet,  and  treated 
with  drugs,  I  underwent  the  alternation  of  great 
sorrows;  fits  of  despair  each  followed  by  a  col- 
lapse. Every  time  I  slept  I  thought  I  had  dreamt 
this  calamity. 

Now,  it  must  be  observed  that  the  sensations 
at  my  awakening  confirmed  me  in  this  error,  which 
was,  however,  immediately  dissipated. 

It  is  well  known  that  those  who  have  had  a 
limb  amputated,  suffer  a  great  deal,  and  refer 
their  suffering  to  the  extreme  periphery  of  the 
severed  nerves,  that  is  to  say,  to  the  limb  which 
they  have  lost,  and  which  they  think  they  still 
possess. 

The  severed  limb,  or  arm,  hurts  them.  If  one 
reflects  that  I  had  had  my  whole  body  cut  off,  one 
will  understand  that  I  suffered  in  all  its  parts — 
in  my  distant  hands,  in  my  human  feet;  and  that 
this  pain  seemed  proof  positive  of  the  possession 
of  that  of  which  I  had  been  deprived. 

217 


2i8  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

This  phenomenon  grew  gradually  less  distinct, 
and  finally  disappeared. 

Grief  went  from  me  less  quickly.  Those  who 
have  entertained  others  with  the  recital  of  tricks 
of  this  sort — Homer,  Ovid,  Apuleius,  and  Per- 
rault,  did  not  know  what  tragedies  their  fictions 
would  become,  once  they  became  realities. 

What  a  drama  there  is  really  in  Lucian's  "Ass"  I 
What  a  martyrdom  for  me  this  week  of  dieting 
and  enforced  inaction ! 

Dead  to  humanity,  I  awaited  with  terror  the 
tortures  of  vivisection,  or  the  premature  old  age 
which  would  be  the  end  of  everything,  before  five 
years  were  out. 

In  spite  of  my  despair,  I  got  well.  Lerne  hav- 
ing ascertained  this,  I  was  turned  out  into  the 
paddock. 

Europa,  Athor,  and  lo  gamboled  in  front  of 
me.  Many  long  days  were  to  pass  before  I  could 
make  them  accustomed  to  me.  Long  days,  and 
all  a  man's  cunning  employed  in  the  task. 

A  good  bout  of  kicking  finally  subjugated  them. 

This  incident  would  be  a  fit  theme  for  deep 
philosophizing,  and  I  should  succumb  to  the  temp- 
tation to  hold  forth,  were  it  not  that  such  dis- 
sertations are  an  awkward  interruption  of  the 
course  of  a  story. 

For  the  time  being,  annoyed  at  the  welcome 
with  which  the  three  horned  ladies  received  me, 


IN  THE  PADDOCK  219 

and  only  desiring  their  favors  with  the  ardor  of 
a  valetudinarian,  I  began  peacefully  to  browse 
on  the  grass  of  the  meadow. 

Here  begins  the  most  interesting  period — that 
of  my  observations  on  my  new  condition.  They 
occupied  me  so  completely,  that  I  began  to  con- 
sider the  bull's  body  as  a  moveable  dwelling — an 
exile's  home,  no  doubt,  but  an  unexplored,  be- 
wildering place,  full  of  surprises,  from  which 
chance  would  perhaps  deliver  me — for  as  soon 
as  a  place  is  merely  not  unpleasing,  one  immedi- 
ately feels  the  risk  of  being  driven  from  it. 

As  long  as  this  accommodation  of  my  man's 
mind  to  the  organs  of  the  beast  lasted,  I  was 
really  fairly  happy. 

The  fact  was  that  a  new  world  was  just  being 
revealed  to  me,  together  with  the  taste  of  the 
simple  herbs  on  which  I  was  feeding.  Just  as 
my  eyes,  my  ears  and  my  muzzle  sent  to  my  brain 
visions,  sounds,  and  smells  hitherto  unimagined, 
my  tongue  with  its  strange  papilla  was  bound  to 
afford  me  very  original  sensations  of  taste. 

Simple  herbs  gave  a  savor  of  which  human 
palates  have  no  idea.  The  cuisine  of  the  epicure 
cannot  possibly  give  them  as  much  pleasure  with 
twelve  courses,  as  a  bull  gets  in  a  small  meadow. 

I  could  not  refrain  from  comparing  the  taste 
of  my  fodder  with  that  of  my  former  food.  There 
is  more  difference  between  lucern  and  clover  than 


220  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

between  a  fried  sole  and  a  rib  of  venison  with 
sauce  chasseud. 

Plants  have  all  sorts  of  tastes  for  the  mouth 
of  a  graminivorous  animal. 

The  buttercup  is  rather  insipid,  the  thistle 
rather  peppery,  but  nothing  equals  fragrant  and 
many-flavored  hay.  Pastures  are  a  continually 
spread  feast  to  which  hunger  impels  their  deni- 
zens to  devote  themselves. 

The  water  of  the  trough  changed  in  taste, 
according  to  the  time  and  the  weather.  At  one 
time  acidulous — at  another  time  salt  or  sweet. 
Light  in  the  morning,  and  syrupy  in  the  evening. 

I  cannot  describe  the  delight  of  drinking  it,  and 
I  think  that  the  lamented  Olympians,  in  their 
vindictive  and  jocular  testimentary  disposition, 
leaving  men  only  the  power  of  laughter,  left  as 
a  legacy  to  other  animals  the  tasting  of  ambrosia 
in  the  grass  of  the  lawns  and  the  drinking  of 
nectar  at  every  fountain. 

I  was  initiated  into  the  delights  of  chewing  the 
cud,  and  I  understood  the  placid  moods  of  those 
grave  epicures,  the  oxen,  during  the  activity  of 
their  four  stomachs,  when,  with  the  scents  of  the 
fields,  a  whole  pastoral  symphony  fills  their 
nostrils. 

By  dint  of  experimenting  with  my  senses,  and 
testing  my  faculties,  I  obtained  strange  impres- 
sions.    The  best  memory  that  remains  to  me  is 


IN  THE  PADDOCK  221 

that  of  my  muzzle — that  tactile  center — that 
Invaluable  and  subtle  touchstone  of  good  and  bad 
grains — that  warner  of  an  enemy's  approach — 
that  pilot  and  councilor — that  sort  of  authorita- 
tive and  dogmatic  consciousness — that  oracle  of 
yes  and  no,  which  never  fails,  and  Is  always 
obeyed. 

It  Is  a  question  If  the  god  Jupiter,  when  he  put 
on  the  form  of  a  bull,  for  the  benefit  of  the 
Princess  Europa,  was  not  more  charmed  by  his 
muzzle,  than  with  all  the  rest  of  that  scandalous 
escapade. 

It  was  wise  of  me  to  establish  these  facts 
straight  away,  for  soon,  as  my  health  failed,  I 
lost  the  calm.,  without  which  accuracy  of  observa- 
tion Is  Impossible,  as  well  as  the  desire  to  con- 
tinue them.  I  suffered  from  attacks  of  headache, 
colds,  toothache — the  whole  sequence  of  Indis- 
positions which  citizens  of  the  twentieth  century 
are  heirs  to. 

I  grew  thin.     Dismal  Ideas  haunted  me. 

The  cause  of  it  was,  first,  the  predominance  of 
the  soul  over  the  body,  which  my  uncle  had  men- 
tioned, and  secondly,  two  Incidents  which  immedi- 
ately aggravated  my  malady. 

After  a  disappearance,  due,  I  presume  to  an 
Illness  following  on  her  great  fright,  I  saw  Emma 
again. 

Without  feeling  any  emotion,  I  saw  her  at  the 


222  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

windows  of  her  room,  then  at  those  of  the  ground 
jBoor,  and  finally  outside.  She  came  out  every 
day,  leaning  on  the  servant's  arm,  and  went  round 
the  park,  avoiding  the  laboratory,  where  Lerne 
and  his  assistants  were  steadily  working. 

I  had  expected  features  less  drawn,  and  eyes 
less  red. 

She  walked  along  slowly — pale,  and  with  fixed 
eyes — displaying  to  the  sun  her  moonlight  com- 
plexion, and  eyes  like  those  one  opens  on  the 
night. 

A  pathetic  widow,  she  let  one  see,  with  a 
certain  nobility,  the  revolt  of  her  love  in  Its 
mourning,  and  the  keenness  of  her  regrets. 

So,  she  still  loved  me,  and  not  seeing  me  any 
more,  supposed  my  fate  to  have  been  that  which 
she  imagined  for  Klotz,  and  not  the  destiny  of 
Macbeth  (which,  however,  she  had  misappre- 
hended). In  her  thought,  I  could  only  be  dead, 
or  a  fugitive.     The  real  truth  escaped  her. 

Each  day,  with  greater  affection,  I  followed 
her  on  her  walks,  as  long  as  I  could.  Separated 
from  her  by  barbed  wire,  I  attempted  mimicry 
and  words,  but  Emma  was  afraid  of  the  bull — 
its  little  leaps,  and  its  lowing.  She  understood 
nothing,  any  more  than  I  had  understood  about 
Donovan  from  the  capers  of  the  dog. 

Sometimes,  when  in  my  attempts  to  make  too 
human  a  gesture  I  stumbled  In  my  quadrupedal 


IN  THE  PADDOCK  223 

way,  the  girl  was  amused  at  it,  and  I  found  myself 
stumbling  intentionally,  in  order  to  see  her  smile. 

Thus  love  by  degrees  resumed  its  torturing 
sway. 

It  could  not  return  unaccompanied  by  jealousy, 
and  the  latter  also  hastened  the  progress  of  my 
languor. 

It  was  jealousy,  but  attended  with  an  extra- 
ordinary sentiment! 

There  stood  between  the  paddock  and  the  pond 
that  hexagonal  summerhouse  which  had  been  the 
Giant  Briareus. 

Lerne  inflicted  on  me  the  annoyance  of  lodging 
my  former  body  in  it.  I  saw  his  assistants  bring 
In  some  elementary  furniture,  and  then  the  crea- 
ture itself — and  ever  since  that  day,  there  he  was, 
with  his  forehead  glued  to  the  windows,  and 
stupidly  watching  me. 

His  hair  was  growing  again.  His  beard  was 
sprouting.  Now  heavy  and  chubby,  his  person 
was  bursting  through  his  clothes. 

His  eye — that  almond  eye,  of  which  I  had  been 
so  proud — was  now  becoming  a  round  ox's  eye. 

The  man  with  the  bull's  brain  was  assuming  the 
expression  which  I  had  remarked  in  Donovan,  but 
more  bestial  still,  and  less  good-natured. 

My  poor  body  had  reserved  the  habit  of  certain 
familiar  gestures.  An  incorrigible  trick  made  it 
shrug  its   shoulders  now  and   then,   so  that  the 


224  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

wretched  creature  seemed  to  be  laughing  at  me 
from  the  windows  of  the  summerhouse. 

He  often  would  shout  out  in  the  dusk  of 
evening. 

My  beautiful  baritone  voice  was  distorted  into 
discordant  clamors — into  the  yells  of  a  gorilla. 

Then,  in  the  laboratory,  Macbeth  would  howl, 
with  his  poor  canine  throat,  and  the  irresistible 
need  of  making  my  own  lamentations  heard, 
filled  the  valley  of  Fonval  with  the  sounds  of  a 
monstrous  trio. 

Emma  perceived  that  the  summerhouse  was  In- 
habited. That  day  she  and  Barbe  were  walking 
round  the  paddock.  I  had,  as  usual,  accompanied 
them  to  a  certain  little  wood  which  was  crossed 
by  the  road,  and  I  awaited  them  at  the  entrance 
of  that  avenue  where  the  doves  were  cooing. 

They  came  out  of  it  and  then  they  suddenly 
paused. 

Emma  was  transfigured.  She  had  taken  on 
that  animated  expression  which  I  knew  of  old — 
quivering  nostrils — eyes  half  shut,  and  her  bosom 
heaving.     She  pressed  Barbe's  arm. 

"Nicolas,"  she  murmured,  "Nicolas.  There, 
there!     Do  you  see  nothing?" 

And  whilst  amongst  the  leafage  the  turtle-doves 
faintly  cooed,  Emma  pointed  out  to  Barbe  the 
creature  in  the  summerhouse,  behind  his  window. 


IN  THE  PADDOCK  225 

Having  assured  herself  that  she  was  not  seen 
from  the  laboratory,  Emma  made  some  signals, 
and  flung  kisses.  The  creature  had  excellent  rea- 
sons for  not  understanding  anything,  but  opened 
his  round  eyes,  dropped  his  jaw,  and  turned  my 
former  integument  which  I  now  so  greatly  re- 
gretted into  a  type  of  perfect  imbecility. 

"Mad,"  said  Emma,  "he,  too!  Lerne  has  made 
him  mad,  like  Macbeth." 

Then  the  kind-hearted  girl  sobbed  with  all  her 
heart,  and  I  felt  anger  rising  in  me. 

"Now,  remember,"  said  the  servant,  "above  all 
things,  do  not  go  near  that  summerhouse,  it  is 
overlooked  on  all  sides." 

The  other  shook  her  beautiful  locks,  dried  her 
tears,  and  lying  down  on  the  grass  in  the  attitude 
of  a  sphinx,  with  her  head  in  her  hands,  and  her 
body  curved,  she  gazed,  for  a  long  time  affection- 
ately, on  that  young  figure  whom  she  had  loved 
so  much. 

The  brute  beast  seemed  to  take  more  interest 
in  this  pose  than  in  her  former  gestures. 

A  scene  like  this  went  beyond  the  bounds  of 
the  grotesque  and  horrible.  That  woman  in  love 
with  my  form — the  form  in  which  I  no  longer 
lived !  That  woman  whom  I  adored,  in  love  with 
a  beast!  How  to  accept  such  a  thing  with 
equanimity? 

My  anger  exploded.     This  was  the  first  time 


226  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

that  I  experienced  the  domination  of  my  ardent 
bodily  constitution.  Mad  with  rage,  blowing  and 
snorting  and  foaming,  I  dashed  over  the  meadow 
in  all  directions,  and  tore  at  the  ground  with  my 
horns  and  hoofs,  in  the  wild  desire  to  kill  some- 
body no  matter  whom. 

From  that  time  on,  hatred  poisoned  my  day- 
dreams— ferocious  hatred  against  this  super- 
natural brute — this  ridiculous  Minotaur  who 
turned  all  the  forest  of  Broceliande  with  its  forest 
labyrinth  into  a  comical  Crete. 

I  cursed  that  body  which  had  been  stolen 
from  me.  I  was  jealous  of  it,  and  often  when 
Jupiter — I  and  I — Jupiter  looked  at  one  another, 
both  victims  of  our  cast-off  bodies,  fury  seized 
me  once  more.  I  charged  about  wildly,  bellowing 
like  a  bull  in  the  ring,  with  my  tail  in  the  air — my 
nostrils  smoking — my  head  down,  ready  for 
murder,  and  desiring  it  as  one  longs  for  love  in 
the  springtime. 

The  cows  warded  me  off  as  best  they  could.  All 
the  beasts  feared  the  mad  bull.  One  day,  Lerne, 
passing  that  way,  took  to  his  heels. 

Life  weighed  heavily  on  me.  I  had  exhausted 
all  the  pleasures  of  observation,  and  my  new 
dwelling-place  only  occasioned  me  distress  and 
repugnance. 

I  got  thinner  and  thinner.     The  pasturage  lost 


IN  THE  PADDOCK  227 

its  savor.  The  spring  was  tasteless,  and  the  com- 
pany of  the  heifers  became  odious  to  me. 

On  the  other  hand,  old  desires  imposed  them- 
selves on  me  like  morbid  whims — a  desire  to  eat 
meat,  and  quaintest  of  all,  the  craving  to  smoke  1 

But  other  considerations  were  not  so  laugh- 
able. Fear  of  the  laboratory  made  me  tremble 
every  time  that  an  assistant  came  near  the  pad- 
dock, and  I  could  not  sleep  for  fear  lest  I  should 
be  bound  during  the  night. 

And  that  was  not  all !  I  was  haunted  by  the 
conviction  that  my  ox's  brain  would  go  mad.  My 
attacks  of  uncontrollable  wrath  might  bring  on 
madness,  and  they  became  more  frequent,  for  the 
conduct  of  Emma  was  not  calculated  to  mitigate 
them. 

Can  the  face  of  a  savage  murderer  be  the  face 
of  love,  and  can  one  be  astonished  that  so  many 
sweethearts  close  their  eyes  when  the  god  kisses 
them? 

So  Emma  looked  with  pleasure  at  the  hideous 
Minotaur,  and  did  not  perceive  Lerne,  who  was 
on  the  watch,  laughing  in  his  sleeves  at  her 
mistake. 

Yes,  laughing,  but  in  the  philosophical  way,  in 
order  not  to  weep !  My  uncle  was  obviously 
suffering.  He  seemed  to  have  grasped  that 
Emma  would  never  love  him,  and  the  Professor 
took  his  disillusionment  ill. 


228  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD  . 

He  was  growing  old,  and  killing  himself  with 
work. 

On  the  terrace  of  the  laboratory  and  on  the 
roof  of  the  chateau,  some  machines  had  been  in- 
stalled whose  handling  interested  me  very  much. 
They  were  surmounted  with  characteristic  anten- 
ncB,  and  as  electric  bells  were  continually  ringing 
in  the  recesses  of  the  two  buildings,  my  opinion 
was  that  they  had  been  transformed  into  wireless 
telegraphy  and  telephone  stations. 

One  morning  Lerne  made  a  little  boat  dart 
about  on  the  pond — a  toy  torpedo-boat.  He 
directed  it  from  the  shore  with  the  help  of  an 
apparatus,  which  also  was  fitted  with  feelers. 

Tele-mechanics — it  was  certain !  The  Pro- 
fessor was  studying  how  to  make  communications 
at  a  distance  without  any  tangible  intermediary. 
Was  this  a  new  method  for  the  introversion  of 
personalities?    Perhaps  it  was. 

I  lost  interest  in  the  matter.  A  happy  issue  out 
of  my  afflictions  now  seemed  to  me  an  impossible 
miracle.  I  should  never  learn  this  future  dis- 
covery, nor  all  the  secrets  which  were  a  blot  on 
the  past  of  my  uncle  and  his  companions. 

It  was,  however,  by  meditating  on  those  last 
mysteries,  that  I  beguiled  the  torturing  insomnia 
of  my  nights,  and  my  idleness  by  day,  but  I  could 
make  nothing  of  it.  It  may  be  the  case,  indeed, 
that  my  mind  was  dulled,  for  there  were,  amongst 


IN  THE  PADDOCK  229 

the  daily  occurrences  which  I  have  just  narrated, 
some  that  it  could  not  retain — to  which  some  con- 
fidences on  Lerne's  part  gave  capital  significance, 
and  the  rational  examination  of  which  would  have 
made  me  hope  for  deliverance. 

And  so,  about  mid-September,  this  deliverance 
was  brought  about  without  my  having  guessed 
anything,  and  in  the  following  circumstances: 

For  some  time  past  the  friendship  of  the 
Minotaur  and  Emma  had  grown  stronger.  The 
monster,  now  accustomed  to  my  body,  began  to 
make  gestures. 

One  afternoon,  while  I  was  endeavoring  to  see 
my  mistress  through  the  bushes  where  she  was 
watching  the  false  Nicolas,  there  was  a  sudden 
noise  of  smashed  and  falling  glass. 

The  Minotaur  had  dashed  through  the  window 
of  the  summerhouse !  Without  in  the  least  heed- 
ing my  unfortunate  body,  he  dashed  up,  cut, 
slashed,  and  bleeding,  with  roars  of  fury. 

Emma  shrieked,  and  tried  to  make  off,  but  the 
creature  had  disappeared  into  the  little  wood. 

I  then  heard  behind  me  the  noise  of  people 
running.  At  the  sound  of  the  broken  windows, 
Lerne  and  his  assistants  had  come  out  of  the 
laboratory.  They  had  seen  the  escape,  and  were 
making  at  full  speed  for  the  fatal  wood. 

Unfortunately,  the  assistants  were  afraid  of  my 
proximity,  and  the  detour  which  they  were  making 


230  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

to  avoid  me,  outside  the  paddock,  would  delay 
them. 

Lerne  had  boldy  taken  a  short  cut,  climbed 
over  the  wire,  and  was  hurrying  to  the  middle  of 
the  enclosure,  with  his  coat  torn  by  the  artificial 
thorns. 

Alas !  he  was  old  and  slow !  They  would 
arrive — all  of  them,  too  late  ! 

I  dashed  at  the  frail  barrier,  broke  it  down, 
and  smashed  and  crashed  through  it,  in  spite  of 
the  little  chevaux  de  frise  which  lacerated  my 
skin. 

I  was  over  the  wall  of  greenery  in  a  moment, 
at  a  jump.  The  sun,  through  the  vault  of  leaves, 
was  dappling  the  underwood  with  its  rays,  and 
there,  on  the  edge  of  the  forest  road  I  saw  Emma 
lying — the  Minotaur  gloating  over  her. 

I  had  no  leisure  for  a  longer  look.  In  a 
moment,  all  my  maddened  blood  was  in  my  head, 
and  goaded  by  an  indomitable  wrath  I  dashed 
ahead  with  my  horns  down. 

I  struck  something  which  fell.  I  trod  it  under 
my  four  hoofs,  and  with  my  back  to  my  victim,  I 
kicked,  and  kicked,  and  kicked ! 

Suddenly  the  voice  of  my  uncle,  gasped : 

"Hallo!  hallo!  hallo!  you  are  killing  your- 
self!" 

My  madness  vanished — the  stars  went  out,  and 
everything  reappeared. 


IN  THE  PADDOCK  231 

The  beautiful  girl,  awaking,  blinked  her  eyes, 
without  understanding  anything. 

The  assistants  watched  me,  each  behind  a  tree, 
and  Lerne,  leaning  over  my  form,  which  was  inert 
and  dislocated,  raised  Its  head.  In  which  a  large 
hole  was  bleeding,  and  It  was  I !  I !  who  had 
committed  the  mad  act  of  injuring  myself! 

The  Professor,  who  was  feeling  the  victim  all 
over,  gave  us  his  diagnosis: 

"One  arm  dislocated,  three  ribs  broken,  frac- 
ture of  the  left  clavicle  and  tibia.  One  recovers 
from  that,  but  the  kick  on  the  head — Ah !  that's 
more  serious.  Hm!  the  brain  is  beaten  to  a  pulp 
— it  Is  destroyed — all  will  be  over  In  half-an-hour. 
Finita  la  Comvicdia! 

I  had  to  put  my  shoulder  up  against  a  tree,  to 
save  myself  from  falling.  So  my  body,  my  coun- 
try of  countries,  was  going  to  die !  It  was  all 
over!  Now,  for  ever  banished  from  my  ruined 
dwelling.  I  had  destroyed  the  first  condition  of 
my  deliverance.  It  was  all  over.  Lerne  himself 
could  do  nothing;  he  had  admitted  as  much.  In 
half  an  hour  all  would  be  over! 

But  this  brain !  Perhaps  he  could.  .  .  .  Yes, 
he  could  do  anything!     Yes! 

I  drew  near  him.     It  was  my  last  chance. 

My  uncle,  who  had  turned  to  the  girl,  was 
speaking  with  grief  In  his  voice. 

"How  you  must  have  loved  him,  to  love  him 


232  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

still  in  his  pitiable  condition.  My  dear  Emma, 
am  I  so  little  lovable,  that  you  prefer  such  a 
wreck  to  me?" 

Emma  was  weeping  in  her  hands.  How  she 
must  love  him,  looking  turn  by  turn  at  the  Pro- 
fessor, the  dying  creature  and  at  me.  How  she 
must  love  him  I 

For  the  last  few  moments  I  had  been  dancing 
about  with  a  sort  of  little  steps,  and  more  or  less 
musical  sounds,  which  were  meant  to  translate 
my  thought.     My  uncle  pursued  the  train  of  his. 

Without  remarking  that  his  cloudy  brow  must 
be  hiding  some  stormy  conflict  of  interests  and 
passions,  and  dominated  by  the  imminence  of  a 
catastrophe  which  he  alone  could  ward  off,  I 
redoubled  entreaties. 

"Yes,  I  understand  your  desire,  Nicolas,"  said 
my  uncle.  "You  want  to  give  back  your  brain  to 
its  former  envelope,  which  would  thus  be  saved, 
since  you  have  made  Jupiter's  brain  an  impossi- 
bility.   Well,  so  be  it !" 

"Oh,  save  him,  save  him,"  cried  Emma,  who 
had  only  grasped  that  one  word.  "Save  him  I 
I  swear  to  you,  Frederic,  I  swear  never  to  see  him 
again." 

"Enough,  enough,"  said  Lerne.  "On  the  con- 
trary you  must  love  him  with  all  your  strength. 
I  no  longer  wish  to  grieve  you.  Why  struggle 
against  destiny?" 


IN  THE  PADDOCK  233 

He  summoned  his  assistants,  and  gave  them 
some  brief  orders.  Karl  and  Wilhelm  seized  the 
Minotaur,  who  was  moaning. 

Johann  had  set  off  to  make  preparations,  as 
hard  as  he  could. 

"Schnell,  schnell !"  said  the  Professor,  and  he 
added,  "Quick,  Nicolas,  follow  us!" 

I  obeyed,  my  mind  half  filled  with  the  joy  at 
recovering  my  body,  and  half  filled  with  fear  lest 
it  should  die  before  the  operation. 

The  operation  was  a  great  success. 
However,  deprived  of  the  attentions  which 
should  have  preceded  the  administration  of  the 
anesthetic,  and  which  the  urgency  of  the  case 
did  not  allow  them  to  give  us,  I  lived  an  instruc- 
tive but  painful  dream  under  the  influence  of 
ether. 

It  lasted,  perhaps  a  quarter  of  a  second — just 
enough  to  let  me  feel  the  tooth  of  some  scratchy 
saw,  or  the  edge  of  some  badly  sharpened  lancet. 

The  sunset  was  filling  the  washhouse  with  a 
rosy  half-light.  Through  my  lowered  eyelids  I 
perceived  my  mustache. 

This  was  the  resurrection  of  Nicolas  Vermont. 

It  was  also  the  end  of  Jupiter.  They  were 
carving  up,  at  the  end  of  the  room,  that  black 
mass  in  which  I  had  sojourned. 

In  the  courtyard  the  dogs  were  quarreling  for 


234  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

the  first  bits  that  Johann  had  flung  to  them.  My 
bones  were  aching. 

Lerne  was  watching  by  my  side.  He  was  quite 
joyful,  as  well  he  might  be.  Was  he  not  at  peace 
with  his  conscience?  Had  he  not  atoned  for  his 
wrongs  to  me?  How  could  I  feel  rancor  to- 
wards him?  It  even  seemed  to  me  that  I  owed 
him  a  certain  debt  of  gratitude. 

So  true  is  it,  that  nothing  seems  so  great  a 
benefit  as  the  reparation  of  a  wrong  done. 


CHAPTER  XII 

LERNE    CHANGES    HIS   METHOD    OF   ATTACK 

When  I  was  in  the  black  hide  of  the  bull,  I 
had  sworn  to  myself,  if  my  original  shape  were 
ever  restored  to  me,  to  flee  away  at  once,  with 
or  without  Emma ;  and  yet  the  autumn  was  grow- 
ing old,  and  I  had  not  yet  left  Fonval. 

The  fact  was,  my  treatment  was  now  the  exact 
reverse  of  what  it  had  been.  To  begin  with,  I 
disposed  of  my  time  as  I  liked. 

The  first  use  that  I  made  of  that  liberty  was 
to  go  to  the  shambles  in  the  forest-clearing,  and 
there  efface  all  traces  of  my  visit.  A  favoring 
god  had  not  decreed  that  during  the  time  I  had 
lived  a  bucolic  life  in  the  meadow,  somebody 
should  come  there,  and  the  assistants  should 
remark  the  violation  of  the  sepulcher. 

Either  they  had  changed  their  cemetery,  or  my 
uncle  no  longer  dissected  anything,  except  tiny 
creatures,  of  which  the  dogs  left  no  trace,  or  else 
experiments  in  animd  vili  were  completely 
abandoned. 

Let  me  say  that  I  proved  to  my  satisfaction  a 
detail  which  lifted  a  great  weight  from  my  heart. 

235 


236  NEW  BODIES  FOE  OLD 

I  had  been  afraid  that  the  soul  of  the  unhappy 
Klotz  had  been  transferred  into  some  animal  care- 
fully kept  in  hiding;  but  his  remains  themselves, 
although  marvelously  recalling  Baudelaire's 
famous  poem,  refuted  me.  The  brain  of  the  dead 
man,  marked  as  It  was  with  numerous  and  deep 
sinuosities,  still  visible,  whilst  bearing  witness  to 
his  humanity,  was  proof  of  a  murder  pure  and 
simple,  thank  Heaven ! 

So  I  enjoyed  a  large  measure  of  freedom,  and 
besides,  an  affectionate  and  repentant  Lerne  had 
shown  himself  at  my  bedside  while  I  was  con- 
valescent. Oh,  not  the  Lerne  of  long  ago,  the 
companion  of  my  Aunt  LIdivine;  no,  but  he  was 
no  longer  the  grim  and  bloodthirsty  host,  who 
had  received  me  in  the  manner  in  which  one  shows 
people  the  door. 

When  he  saw  me  up  and  about,  my  uncle 
brought  Emma  in,  and  said  to  her  in  my  presence, 
that  I  was  cured  of  a  passing  touch  of  lunacy,  and 
that  she  might  now  adore  me  as  much  as  she 
liked. 

"For  my  part,"  he  continued,  "I  give  up  emo- 
tions no  longer  suitable  to  my  age.  You  shall 
have  Emma.  All  I  ask  of  you  is  not  to  leave  me. 
A  sudden  solitude  would  increase  my  distress, 
which  you  can  easily  understand,  and  which  both 
of  you  will  pardon.  This  distress  will  pass. 
Work  will  get  the  better  of  it.    Do  not  be  afraid, 


LERNE  CHANGES  HIS  ATTACK    237 

my  dear;  the  chief  part  of  my  profit  shall  be  for 
you  I  Nothing  has  been  changed  with  regard  to 
that,  and  Nicolas  shall  be  mentioned  in  the 
partnership  deed  and  in  my  will.  You  may  love 
one  another  in  peace." 

With  these  words  he  went  off  to  his  electrical 
machines. 

Emma  showed  no  astonishment  at  anything. 
Trustful  and  simpleminded,  she  had  accepted  my 
uncle's  speech  with  a  clapping  of  hands. 

I,  knowing  him  to  be  an  actor,  might  have  told 
myself  that  he  was  feigning  kindness,  in  order 
to  keep  me  in  the  house;  that  either  he  was  afraid 
of  what  I  might  reveal  or  that  he  was  hatching 
some  new  project;  but  the  two  Circeean  opera- 
tions had  rather  troubled  my  memory  and  my 
reasoning  powers. 

"Why,"  said  I  to  myself,  "why  doubt  this  man, 
who  has,  of  his  own  free  will,  rescued  me  from  the 
most  awful  position?  He  perseveres  in  the  good 
way,  and  all  is  for  the  best." 

At  the  sight  of  my  laborious  and  domesticated 
Professor,  who  could  have  believed  in  his  victims, 
and  in  a  trap  which  he  had  laid  for  me,  in  the 
assassination  of  Klotz,  in  the  distress  of  Nell? 
She  never  ceased  her  bowlings  to  the  stars,  suffer- 
ing from  the  troubles  which  I  had  endured;  for 
she  was  still  there,  and  it  puzzled  me  that  Lerne 
should  continue  the  punishment  of  a  fault  which 


238  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

must  appear  much  less  now  that  Emma  no  longer 
interested  him. 

I  resolved  to  confide  in  my  uncle. 

"Nicolas,"  he  said,  "you  have  put  your  finger 
on  my  greatest  anxiety,  but  what  is  to  be  done? 
In  order  to  reestablish  the  right  order  of  things 
in  this  affair,  it  is  absolutely  necessary  that  the 
body  of  Macbeth  should  com.e  back  here.  By 
what  stratagem  are  we  to  persuade  his  father  to 
send  him  back?  Try  to  find  one.  Help  me.  I 
promise  to  act  without  delay  as  soon  as  one  or 
the  other  of  us  has  found  a  solution." 

This  reply  had  dissipated  my  last  feelings  of 
dislike.  I  did  not  ask  myself  why  Lerne  had 
metamorphosed  himself  so  as  to  give  in  so  easily 
and  quickly. 

My  belief  was  that  the  Professor  had  at  last 
been  restored  to  wisdom;  and  in  default  of  the 
other  virtues,  which  would  no  doubt  appear  in 
due  order,  his  rectitude  of  long  ago  seemed  to 
me  to  be  born  again,  rectitude  which  was  as  great 
as  the  erudition  which  had  never  abandoned  him, 
and  as  evident  as  it  was. 

And  Lerne's  erudition  was  almost  inexhaustible. 
Each  day  I  was  more  and  more  convinced  of  it. 

We  resumed  our  walks,  and  he  profited  by  them 
to  discourse  learnedly  about  everything  we  came 
across — a  leaf  led  him  on  to  botany,  entomology 
was  suggested  by  a  beetle ;  a  drop  of  rain  let  loose 


LERNE  CHANGES  HIS  ATTACK    239 

upon  my  admiration  a  deluge  of  chemistry,  and 
when  we  had  got  to  the  edge  of  the  forest,  I  had 
heard  from  Lerne's  lips  the  lecturing  of  a  whole 
collegeful  of  dons. 

But,  it  was  there,  at  the  edge  of  the  woods  and 
fields  that  one  should  have  seen  him.  After  the 
last  tree  had  been  passed,  he  never  failed  to  stop, 
hauled  himself  up  to  the  top  of  a  boundary  stone, 
and  held  forth  concerning  the  Universe,  in  pres- 
ence of  the  plains  and  the  heavens. 

He  described  things  so  ingeniously,  that  one 
could  believe  one  saw  Nature  unfold  and  open  to 
the  very  depths  of  the  earth,  and  to  the  very  ends 
of  Infinity. 

His  words  knew  equally  well  how  to  dig  into 
the  hills  to  lay  bare  the  strata  of  the  soil,  as  to 
bring  near  to  us,  the  better  to  discourse  about 
them,  the  invisible  planets. 

He  knew  how  to  analyze  the  vapor  of  the 
clouds,  as  well  as  to  show  the  origin  of  the  cold 
wind — to  evoke  prehistoric  landscapes,  and  to 
prove  in  the  same  way  the  unending  future  of  the 
countryside. 

He  roamed  in  spirit  with  his  eyes  over  the 
Immense  panorama,  from  the  hut  near  at  hand, 
to  those  wide  horizons — the  distant  tints  of  blue. 

In  a  few  words  each  thing  was  defined,  ex- 
plained, and  illuminated  by  commentary,  and  as 
he  made  sweeping  gestures  to  every  point  of  the 


240  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

compass,  to  draw  attention  now  to  a  river,  and 
now  to  a  steeple,  his  outspread  arms  seemed  to 
lengthen  into  rays,  like  those  of  a  lighthouse, 
which  sheds  its  long  protecting  beams  over  the 
countryside. 

The  return  to  Fonval  usually  took  place  in  less 
scientific  circumstances.  My  uncle  continued  his 
speculations  which  he  would  keep  to  himself,  as- 
suming them,  1  suppose,  to  be  too  abstruse  for  my 
intelligence,  and  he  hummed  as  he  went  along, 
his  favorite  air,  which  I  suppose  he  had  learnt 
from  one  of  his  assistants,  "Rum  fit  dum." 

Once  we  got  back,  he  hastened  to  the  labora- 
tory, or  the  hothouse. 

We  varied  these  walks  with  expeditions  in  the 
motor-car,  and  then  my  uncle  put  himself  astride 
another  hobby-horse.  He  classed  my  vehicle  in 
its  rank  amongst  animal  categories,  showed  the 
creatures  of  to-day,  of  yesterday,  and  of  to- 
morrow, among  which,  no  doubt,  the  automobile 
would  take  its  place,  and  this  prophecy  finished 
up  with  a  warm  panegyric  of  my  80  h.p. 

He  wanted  to  learn  how  to  drive  the  engine.  It 
was  an  easy  business.  In  three  lessons  I  made 
him  a  past  master.  He  always  drove  now,  and  I 
did  not  complain,  as  ever  since  the  two  severings 
and  two  re-joinings  of  the  optic  nerves,  any  long 
strain  tired  my  eyes. 

My  left  ear  had  not  yet  recovered  all  the  sensi- 


LERNE  CHANGES  HIS  ATTACK    241 

bility  one  could  have  wished,  but  I  did  not  dare 
to  talk  about  it  to  Lerne  for  fear  of  adding  one 
more  to  the  many  remorseful  thoughts  that 
seemed  to  haunt  him. 

It  was  at  the  end  of  one  of  those  pleasure  trips 
that  I  happened,  in  cleaning  my  car — a  thing  I 
had  to  do  myself — to  find  between  the  back  and 
the  cushion  of  Lerne's  seat,  a  little  note-book 
which  had  slipped  from  his  pocket.  I  put  it  away 
In  mine,  with  the  Intention  of  restoring  it  to  him. 

My  curiosity  got  the  better  of  me.  On  regain- 
ing my  room,  and  without  rejoining  the  Professor, 
I  examined  my  find.  It  was  a  diary  crammed 
full  of  rapid  notes  and  figures  sketched  in  pencil. 
It  resembled  the  daily  record  of  some  research — 
a  laboratory  journal. 

The  figures  conveyed  no  meaning  to  my  eyes. 
The  text  was  composed  mainly  of  German  terms 
(more  especially)  and  French  ones,  too.  The 
terms  seemed  to  be  chosen  in  either  language,  as 
inspiration  directed.  The  ensemble  did  not  have 
any  meaning  for  me.  However,  I  discovered  a 
piece  of  less  chaotic  literature  dated  the  day  be- 
fore, In  which  I  thought  I  could  recognize  a 
resume  of  the  preceding  pages;  and  the  fact  of 
my  understanding  some  French  words,  and  the 
sense  which  they  assumed   (once  they  were  put 


242  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

together)  awoke  in  me  both  an  inveterate  detec- 
tive and  a  new-born  linguist. 

Among  such  words  were  the  following  sub- 
stantives, connected  by  German  words:  "trans- 
mission of  thought,"  "electricity,"  "brains," 
"batteries." 

With  the  help  of  a  dictionary  which  I  stole 
from  my  uncle's  room,  I  deciphered  this  sort  of 
cryptogram,  in  which,  fortunately,  the  same  ex- 
pressions frequently  recurred.  Here  is  a  transla- 
tion of  it — I  give  it  for  what  it  is  worth,  unfitted 
as  I  am  for  this  task,  and  driven  to  haste  as  I  was 
by  the  necessity  of  restoring  the  note-book  as  soon 
as  possible : 

"Conclusions  dated  the  30th:  Aim  pursued: 
Exchange  of  personalities  without  exchange  of 
brains.  .  .  .  Basis  of  research:  Ancient  experi- 
ments have  proved  that  everybody  possesses  a 
soul;  for  the  soul  and  the  life  are  inseparable,  and 
all  organisms,  between  their  birth  and  death, 
enjoy  a  more  or  less  developed  soul  according  as 
they  are  higher  or  lower  in  the  scale  of  existence. 
Thus,  from  man  to  moss,  passing  through  the 
polypi,  each  living  being  has  its  own  soul.  Do  not 
plants  sleep,  breathe  and  digest?  Why  should 
they  not  think? 

"This  proves  that  there  is  a  soul  where  there  is 
no  brain. 


LERNE  CHANGES  HIS  ATTACK    243 

"So  the  soul  and  the  brain  are  Independent  of 
one  another. 

"Consequently,  souls  can  be  exchanged  with  one 
another  without  the  brains  being  exchanged  .   .   . 

"Experiments  in  Transmission. 

"Thought  is  the  electricity  of  which  our  brains 
are  the  batteries  or  the  accumulators — I  do  not 
know  yet;  but  what  is  certain,  is  that  the  trans- 
mission of  the  mental  fluid  takes  place  in  a  man- 
ner analogous  to  that  of  the  electric  fluid. 

"The  experiment  of  the  4th  proves  that 
thought  is  transmitted  by  conductors.  That  of 
the  loth,  that  it  is  transmitted  without  conductors, 
on  the  ether  waves. 

"Subsequent  experiments  have  shown  a  weak 
spot  which  I  now  set  down. 

"A  soul  which  is  projected  into  an  organism 
unknown  to  this  latter,  compresses,  so  to  speak, 
a  soul  which  is  there,  without  being  able  to  expel 
it;  the  projected  soul — the  soul  which  has  broken 
loose  from  the  body — is  itself  kept  bound  to  its 
organism  by  a  sort  of  inexplicable  mental  'attach- 
ment,' which  nothing  up  till  now  has  been  able  to 
cut. 

"If  the  two  beings  are  consenting,  the  recipro- 
cal transmission  fails  for  the  same  reason. 
The  major  part  of  each  soul  re-installs  itself  per- 
fectly well  in  the  organism  of  its  partner,  but  the 
troublesome  mental  'attachment'  prevents  each  of 


244  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

them  from  completely  quitting  the  body  from 
which  it  is  striving  to  detach  itself. 

"The  simpler  the  recipient  organism  is  rela- 
tively to  the  transmitting  organism,  the  more  soul 
can  this  latter  project  into  a  receptacle,  which  con- 
tains so  little  of  it  in  the  beginning,  and  the  thin- 
ner, so  to  speak,  becomes  the  'attachment'  which 
keeps  fast  the  mind  in  the  transmitting  body,  but 
it  always  exists. 

"On  the  20th  I  projected  myself,  mentally,  in- 
side Johann — on  the  22nd  I  invaded  a  cat,  on 
the  24th  an  ash  tree. 

"Access  has  become  easier  and  easier,  and  the 
invasion  more  and  more  complete,  but  the  'attach- 
ment' remains. 

"I  thought  the  experiment  would  succeed  on 
a  corpse  because  there  was  no  fluid  to  encumber 
the  receptacle  to  be  filled.  I  had  not  reflected 
that  death  is  not  compatible  with  a  soul — that 
inseparable  companion  of  life  itself.  I  did  not 
get  any  results,  and  the  sensation  is  abominable. 

"Theoretically,  in  order  that  the  'attachment' 
should  be  suppressed,  what  is  required?  A  re- 
ceiving organism,  which  should  have  no  soul  at 
all  (in  order  that  one  may  lodge  one's  own 
entirely),  and  yet  which  should  not  be  dead,  and 
in  other  terms,  an  orgatiized  life  which  has  never 
lived.    That  is  impossible. 


LERNE  CHANGES  HIS  ATTACK    245 

"So,  in  practice,  our  efforts  must  tend  to  the 
suppression  of  the  'attachment'  by  means  of 
artifices,  which  I  do  not  yet  perceive.   .   .   . 

"Not  but  what  the  experiments  of  this  period 
have  yielded  curious  results,  since  we  have  arrived 
at  the  following  demonstrable  conclusions: 

"(i)  The  human  brain  can  discharge  itself 
almost  entirely  into  a  plant. 

"(2)  From  man  to  man,  with  jnutual  consent, 
the  passage  of  personality  is  accom- 
plished very  completely  (except  for 
'attachment'),  which  makes  those  souls, 
as  it  were,  sister  souls — Siamese  men- 
talities. 

"(3)  From  man  to  man,  without  mutual  con- 
sent, the  compression  of  the  receiving 
soul  (under  pressure  by  the  other)  pro- 
duces, in  spite  of  the  imperfection  of  the 
process,  a  partial  and  momentary  incar- 
nation of  the  transmitting  individual. 

"A  very  interesting  incarnation  this,  for  It 
satisfies  some  of  those  desiderata,  all  of  which  I 
shall  satisfy  if  I  attain  the  aim  at  which  I  am 
driving. 

"It  seems  to  me  unattainable." 

So  this  is  the  result  of  the  studies  which  my 
uncle  had  been  so  ardently  lauding! 


246  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

The  theory  was  disconcerting.  I  ought  to  have 
been  astounded  by  it;  for  there  was  revealed  a 
tendency  towards  spiritualist  doctrine — very 
strange  in  the  case  of  a  materialist  like  Lerne — 
and  the  new  doctrine  appeared  in  the  light  of  a 
phantasmagoria,  which  would  have  made  many 
eyes  open  wide  behind  learned  spectacles,  erudite 
pince-nez,  and  pedantic  monocles. 

As  for  me,  I  did  not  discover  all  the  subjects 
of  wonder  at  first  sight,  being  still,  at  that  time, 
somewhat  unwell,  and  I  did  not  perceive  that  I 
had  translated  a  Franco-German  mene  mene 
tekel  iipharsin  destined  for  me! 

My  attention  was  concentrated  upon  these 
facts — that  the  organized  being  which  had  never, 
lived,  did  not  exist,  and  that,  on  the  other  hand, 
the  Professor  was  doubtful  of  being  able  to  sup- 
press the  "attachment."  So  he  was  foiled.  After 
his  former  triumphs  I  expected  any  miracle  from 
him;  only  his  inability  to  perform  them  would 
have  astonished  me. 

I  set  off  to  seek  my  uncle,  in  order  to  give  him 
back  his  note-book. 

Barbe  (with  her  corpulent  figure) ,  whom  I  met, 
told  me  that  he  was  walking  about  in  the  park. 
I  did  not  meet  him  there,  but  at  the  edge  of  the 
pond  I  saw  Karl  and  Wilhelm,  who  were  looking 
at  something  in  the  water.      Those   two  black- 


LERNE  CHANGES  HIS  ATTACK    247 

guards  inspired  me  with  aversion,  because  of  their 
interchanged  brains. 

Their  presence  was  usually  enough  to  drive  me 
away,  but  that  day,  the  sight  which  kept  them 
on  the  water's  edge,  drew  me  to  them. 

This  something  they  were  looking  at  kept 
jumping  out  of  the  water  with  a  shower  of  dia- 
mond drops;  it  was  a  carp.  It  leaped  up,  shaking 
its  fins,  which  beat  the  air  like  wings.  One  would 
have  said  that  it  was  trying  to  fly  away.  The  poor 
creature  really  was  trying  to  do  so ! 

I  had  before  me  that  fish  which  Lerne  had 
dowered  with  a  blackbird's  soul. 

The  captive  bird — a  prey  in  Its  scaly  flesh  to 
the  old  aspirations  of  Its  race,  and  weary  of  Its 
watery  home — was  leaping  towards  an  impossible 
heaven. 

Finally,  with  a  more  despairing  effort,  the 
creature  fell  on  the  shore,  with  its  gills  quivering. 

Then  Wilhelm  seized  it,  and  the  assistants  de- 
parted with  their  booty.  They  apostrophized  it, 
and  amused  themselves  with  it  like  old  ill- 
conditioned  guttersnipes.  They  were  whistling, 
and  imitating  the  blackbird's  song  in  mockery, 
and  then,  by  way  of  a  laugh,  a  great  neighing 
came  from  their  chests,  and  without  knowing  It, 
they  reproduced  the  sound  of  a  horse's  trumpet 
much  better  than  they  had  that  of  the  winged 
flute. 


248  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

I  remained  deamily  contemplating  the  pond, 
that  liquid  cage  in  which  the  enchanted  carp  had 
suffered  the  haunting  desire  to  fly,  and  the  regret 
for  a  nest.  The  liquid  mirror,  a  moment  dis- 
turbed by  the  fury  of  the  fish's  leaps,  would  not 
have  reassumed  its  leaden  calm  before  the 
creature  was  dead. 

Its  martyrdom  was  going  to  end  in  the  stew- 
pan.  How  would  that  of  the  other  victims  finish, 
the  escaped  beasts,  and  Macbeth? 

Oh,  Macbeth !  how  to  deliver  him  I 

On  the  water,  now  becalmed  in  deep  repose,  a 
last  ripple  was  spreading  its  circles,  and  the 
depths  of  the  firmament  were  reflected  in  its 
mirror  again.  The  evening  star  was  shining  in  the 
depths  of  the  lake  millions  of  leagues  away,  but 
at  will,  it  was  possible,  on  the  contrary,  to  imagine 
it  floating  on  the  surface,  and  the  leaves  of  the 
water-lilies,  crescents  and  half-circles,  seemed 
like  reflections  of  the  moon  at  Its  successive  ages, 
which  had  remained  there,  slumbering  in  that 
chill  water. 

Macbeth!  I  thought  once  more.  Macbeth  I 
What  about  hiinf 

At  this  moment  there  was  the  sound  of  a  dis- 
tant bell  at  the  main  door.  Somebody  at  this 
hour  of  the  day!     Nobody  ever  came!   .   .  . 

I  retraced  my  steps  to  the  chateau  at  a  rapid 
pace,  asking  myself  for  the  first  time  what  would 


LERNE  CHANGES  HIS  ATTACK    249 

happen  to  Nicolas  if  the  Law  descended  on 
Fonval. 

Hiding  behind  the  corner  of  the  chateau,  I 
ventured  a  glance.  Lerne  was  standing  at  the 
door  reading  a  telegram  that  moment  received, 
and  I  came  out  from  my  hiding-place. 

*'Here,  uncle,"  said  I,  "here  is  a  pocket-book. 
It  belongs  to  you,  I  think.  You  left  it  in  the 
car.  .  .  ." 

But  the  rustling  of  petticoats  made  me  turn 
round. 

Emma  was  coming  to  us,  radiant  in  that  sun- 
set, in  which  her  hair  seemed,  every  evening,  to 
gain  a  new  wealth  of  red  light — with  a  tune  sound- 
ing on  her  lips,  like  a  rose  between  her  teeth. 

She  came  straight  on,  and  her  gait  was  that 
of  a  dance. 

The  bell  had  interested  her  also.  She  Inquired 
about  the  telegram.  The  Professor  did  not 
reply. 

"Oh,  what's  the  matter?"  said  she.  "What's 
the  matter,  again,  mon  Dieu?" 

"Is  it  so  grave,  uncle?"    I  asked  in  my  turn. 

"No,"  replied  Lerne.  "Donovan  is  dead,  that's 
all." 

"Poor  fellow,"  said  Emma.  Then  after  a 
silence:  "Is  it  not  better  to  be  dead  than  mad? 
After  all  it  is  the  best  thing  for  him.     Come, 


250  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

Nicolas,  you  are  not  going  to  put  on  a  face  like 
that!     Come!" 

And  she  seized  my  hand,  and  dragged  me  to  the 
chateau. 

Lerne  went  away  in  the  other  direction. 

I  was  prostrated.  "Let  me  alone,"  I  said,  "let 
me  alone.  Donovan,  the  poor  wretch.  Let  me 
alone.    You  cannot  know!    Let  me  alone,  I  say." 

A  maddening  fear  came  over  me.  Leaving 
Emma  I  ran  after  my  uncle  and  joined  him  at  the 
laboratory.  He  was  talking  to  Johann,  and  show- 
ing him  the  telegram.  The  German  disappeared 
into  the  house  at  the  very  moment  that  I  accosted 
the  Professor. 

"Uncle,  you  have  not  told  him  anything,  have 
you?    You  have  not  said  anything  to  Johann?" 

"Yes,  why?" 

"Oh,  but  he  will  Inform  the  others,  and  the 
others  will  repeat  it  before  Nell !  Nell  will  know 
it,  uncle,  that  is  certain.  They  will  tell  her,  and 
Donovan's  soul  will  learn  that  it  no  longer  has 
a  human  body.    It  must  not  be  !    It  must  not  be  !" 

"There  is  no  danger,  Nicolas,  I  assure  you." 

"No  danger !  Those  men  are  scoundrels,  I 
tell  you  !  Let  me  prevent  this  catastrophe  !  Time 
is  passing,  let  me  in,  I  entreat  you !  Please,  for 
a  second,  I  entreat  you !  Damn  it  all,  I  will 
pass!" 


LERNE  CHANGES  HIS  ATTACK  251 

The  lessons  I  had  learned  from  the  bull  stood 
me  in  good  stead;  I  charged  head  first. 

My  uncle  fell  back  on  the  grass,  and  with  a  blow 
of  my  fist  I  opened  the  already  half  open  door. 
At  this,  Johann,  who  was  on  the  watch  behind 
it,  fell  back,  bleeding  at  the  nose,  and  then  I  pene- 
trated to  the  courtyard,  and  decided  to  take  away 
the  dog  at  any  hazard,  and  never  again  be 
separated  from  it. 

The  pack  slipped  into  their  kennels.  I  saw 
Nell  immediately.  They  had  given  her  a  kennel 
apart  from  the  others.  Her  great  starved,  hair- 
less, wretched  body  was  lying  against  the  grating. 

I  called  out,  "Donovan,  Donovan!"  She  did 
not  budge. 

The  eyes  of  the  dogs  gleamed  in  the  depths 
of  their  somber  huts,. and  some  of  them  growled. 

"Donovan!  Nell!"  I  had  an  intuition  of  the 
truth.  There  also  the  scythe  of  Death  had  done 
its  work.  Yes,  Nell  also  was  cold  and  stiff.  A 
chain  twisted  round  her  neck  seemed  to  have 
strangled  her.  I  was  going  to  make  sure  of  this, 
when  Lerne  and  Johann  showed  themselves  at 
the  entrance  of  the  courtyard. 

"Villains,"  I  cried,  "you  have  killed  her." 

"No,  on  my  honor,  I  swear,"  declared  my 
uncle.  "They  found  her  this  morning,  exactly  as 
you  see." 

"Do  you  think,  then,  that  she  did  it  of  her  own 


252  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

accord — that  she  put  an  end  to  herself?  Oh,  what 
a  horrible  end  I" 

"Perhaps,"  said  Lerne.  "However,  there  is 
another  solution,  and  a  more  likely  one.  A 
supreme  convulsion,  I  think,  twisted  the  chain. 
The  body  was  sickly.  Hydrophobia  declared  it- 
self some  days  ago.  I  hide  nothing  from  you, 
Nicolas.  I  am  not  exculpating  myself  in  any  way. 
You  can  see  that." 

"Oh,"  I  cried,  in  terror,  "rabies." 

Lerne  went  on  quietly,  "It  is  possible,  also,  that 
another  reason  for  this  death  escapes  us.  They 
found  the  dog  at  8  o'clock  this  morning  still 
warm.  The  death  had  taken  place  an  hour  be- 
fore, and,"  added  he,  "Macbeth  succumbed  at 
7  o'clock — just  at  the  same  instant." 

"From  what  did  he  die?" 

"He  died  of  rabies  also." 


11 


CHAPTER  XIII 

EXPERIMENTS  !      HALLUCINATIONS ! 

Emma,  Lerne  and  I  were  in  the  little  drawing 
room  after  lunch,  when  the  Professor  had  a  sort 
of  fainting-fit. 

It  was  not  the  first.  I  had  already  observed 
similar  signs  of  breaking  health  in  my  uncle,  but 
this  one  was  very  clear  evidence.  I  could  observe 
all  the  details  of  it,  and  it  was  accompanied  by 
curious  circumstances;  that  is  why  I  shall  speak 
about  it  more  particularly. 

Any  one  who  saw  them  and  did  not  know  all 
the  facts  would  have  attributed  those  incidents  to 
intellectual  overwork.  To  tell  the  truth,  my  uncle 
did  have  spells  of  overwork.  The  laboratory, 
hothouse  and  chateau  were  no  longer  sufficient 
for  him.  He  had  annexed  the  park,  also,  and 
now  Fonval  bristled  with  complicated  poles, 
abnormal  masts,  and  unusual  semaphores,  and  as 
some  trees  interfered  with  the  experiments,  a 
gang  of  woodcutters  was  sent  for,  in  order  to 
cut  them  down. 

The  joy  of  seeing  the  possibility  of  free  pass- 
age to  and  fro  restored  in  the  grounds  consoled 

253 


254  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

me  for  this  sacrilegious  destruction.  All  about 
the  immense  workshop  of  the  valley  basin  one 
saw  the  Professor  feverishly  moving  about  from 
one  building  to  another,  from  a  dynamo  to  a 
switch,  ferociously  determined  to  suppress  the 
fatal  "attachment." 

Sometimes,  however,  he  had  an  attack  of  weak- 
ness, as  the  result  of  one  of  those  very  peculiar 
fainting-fits  which  I  am  describing.  It  was  always 
whilst  he  was  reflecting  profoundly,  with  his  eyes 
fixed  on  some  object  or  other,  and  brain  working 
at  high  pressure  that  the  attack  came,  and  he 
collapsed.  At  such  times  he  became  paler  and 
paler,  until  the  color  came  back  into  his  cheeks 
by  itself,  and  by  degrees. 

Those  attacks  left  him  limp  and  without 
strength.  They  robbed  him  of  his  fine  feeling  of 
confidence,  and  I  heard  him  complain  after  one 
of  them,  and  murmur  in  a  tone  of  discourage- 
ment: 

"I'll  never  succeed,  never!" 

Often  had  I  been  on  the  point  of  asking  him 
about  it.    That  day  I  made  up  my  mind  to  do  so. 

We  were  drinking  our  coffee,  Lerne  seated  in 
an  armchair  in  front  of  the  window,  holding  his 
cup  in  his  hand.  Our  talk  was  a  broken  sort  of 
conversation,  with  longer  and  longer  intervals. 

For  want  of  something  to  talk  about,  the  con- 


)M 


EXPERIMENTS!  HALLUCINATIONS!  255 

versation  languished.  Gradually  it  ceased 
altogether,  as  a  fire  goes  out  for  want  of  fuel. 

The  clock  struck,  and  one  saw  the  woodcutters 
going  to  their  work,  with  their  axes  over  their 
shoulder.  They  brought  before  my  mind  a  pic- 
ture of  ragged  lictors  going  to  carry  out  an 
execution  of  trees. 

Which  amongst  my  old  comrades  would  perish 
to-day — this  beech,  or  that  chestnut?  I  saw  them 
from  my  window,  clothed  in  all  the  yellows  of 
autumn,  from  the  deepest  copper  to  the  palest 
gold,  each  showing  its  dark  touch  of  shade,  or  its 
reddish  light  amongst  those  various  yellows. 

The  firs  were  beginning  to  get  black.  Leaves 
were  falling  here  and  there  as  seemed  good  to 
themselves,  for  there  was  no  breeze. 

With  a  spire  like  that  of  a  cathedral,  a  poplar 
colossus  with  a  hoary  head  dominated  the  leaf- 
age. I  had  always  known  it  thus — a  monumental 
tree — and  the  sight  of  it  stirred  in  me  the 
memories  of  my  childhood. 

Suddenly  a  flight  of  terror-struck  birds  escaped 
from  it — two  rooks  left  it,  cawing,  a  squirrel 
jumped  from  branch  to  branch,  and  took  refuge 
on  the  neighboring  walnut  tree. 

Some  unpleasant  creature,  climbing  into  the 
tree,  had  doubtless  threatened  their  safety.  I 
could  not  distinguish  it,  for  a  clump  of  bushes 
hid  all  the  lower  part  of  the  poplar,  but  with  a 


256  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

surprise  that  was  almost  pain  I  saw  it  quiver  from 
the  top  to  the  roots,  shake  itself  once  or  twice, 
and  slowly  sway  its  branches.  One  would  have 
said  that  a  breeze  had  sprung  up  which  blew  for 
it  alone. 

I  thought  of  the  woodcutters,  without,  how- 
ever, forming  a  very  precise  conception  of  the 
part  they  might  be  playing  in  this  drama. 

"Can  my  uncle,"  I  said  to  myself,  "have 
ordered  them  to  execute  the  poplar — that 
venerable  patriarch — that  king  of  Fonval? 
That  would  be  too  much." 

Then,  as  I  was  on  the  point  of  asking  Lerne 
about  the  matter,  I  perceived  that  he  was  in  one 
of  his  fainting-fits. 

I  satisfied  myself  of  the  presence  of  the  distinc- 
tive symptoms  of  his  trouble,  the  immobility — 
the  pallor — the  fixed  look — and  I  succeeded  in  de- 
termining what  he  was  looking  at  with  that  per- 
sistent fixed  stare  of  a  somnambulist. 

What  he  was  gazing  at  was  the  poplar — that 
animate  tree,  whose  appearance  at  the  moment 
was  recalling  in  so  terrifying  a  way  the  date  trees 
of  the  hothouse  excited  by  love  and  battle. 

I  remembered  the  note-book.  Was  there  not 
some  appalling  analogy  between  the  absence  of 
that  man  and  the  life  of  that  tree? 

Suddenly  an  ax  smote  the  trunk  with  a 
sound  as  of  low  thunder.     The  poplar  quivered, 


EXPERIMENTS!  HALLUCINATIONS!  257 

twisted  about,  and  my  uncle  gave  a  start.  His 
cup  dropping  from  his  hand,  was  dashed  to  pieces 
on  the  floor,  and  whilst  his  cheeks  regained  their 
color,  he  put  his  hand  down  quickly  to  his  ankles, 
as  if  the  ax  had  struck  the  man  and  the  tree  at 
the  same  blow. 

Meanwhile,  Lerne  gradually  recovered.  I 
pretended  to  have  observed  nothing  except  his 
fainting,  and  I  told  him  that  he  should  look  after 
himself — that  those  repeated  fits  would  end  by 
killing  him.     Did  he  know  what  caused  them? 

My  uncle  gave  a  sign  that  he  did.  Emma 
came  near  his  chair.  ...  "I  know,"  said  he,  at 
last,  "cardiac  syncope.     I  am  treating  myself." 

That  was  not  true.  The  Professor  was  not 
treating  himself.  He  was  using  up  his  life  in  the 
pursuit  of  his  chimera,  without  more  heed  for  his 
skin  than  it  if  had  been  an  old  work-jacket,  to  be 
thrown  away  as  soon  as  the  task  was  over. 

Emma  advised  him  to  go  out. 

"The  air  will  do  you  good,"  she  said. 

He  went  out.  We  saw  him  going  towards  the 
poplar,  smoking  his  pipe.  The  blows  of  the  ax 
fell  faster  and  faster.  The  tree  bent  over  and 
fell.  Its  fall  made  the  sound  like  an  earthquake. 
The  branches  hit  my  uncle  hut  he  did  not  step 
aside. 

And  now,  robbed  of  its  only  campanile^  Fonval 
seemed  to  have  sunk  lower  than  ever  into  the 


258  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

depths  of  the  valley,  and  I  sought,  in  the  forlorn 
sky,  to  fix  the  place  of  the  tree,  which  one  had 
already  forgotten,  and  its  tall  form,  which  was 
already  legendary. 

Lerne  came  back.  He  did  not  seem  to  know 
that  he  had  been  imprudent.  His  carelessness 
made  one  tremble  when  one  realized  that  he 
might  be  as  reckless  in  the  most  hazardous  ex- 
periments— for  example,  those  transfusions  of 
soul  about  which  the  note-book  spoke. 

Was  it  one  of  those  attempts  which  I  had  just 
witnessed?  I  meditated  about  it,  with  that 
strange  feeling  which  I  had  already  experienced 
at  Fonval,  like  that  caused  by  groping  about  in 
mysterious  darkness. 

Were  Lerne's  fainting-fit  and  the  tragedy  of 
the  tree  some  mysterious  coincidence,  or  had  some 
strange  bond  united  them  at  the  moment  of  the 
ax's  blow? 

Certainly  the  arrival  of  the  woodcutters  at  the 
foot  of  the  poplar  would  have  been  enough  to 
cause  the  flight  of  the  birds,  and  as  for  the  shud- 
dering, why  should  the  cutter  not  have  produced 
it  by  climbing  up  the  other  side  of  the  trunk  in 
order  to  fix  the  traditional  rope? 

Once  more,  the  crossways  of  probability  offered 
me  a  choice  of  solutions,  like  so  many  roads,  but 
my  mind  was  not  acute  at  the  time. 


EXPERIMENTS!  HALLUCINATIONS!  259 

I  was  often  with  Emma,  but  as  much  as  I  loved 
those  meetings,  I  had  to  make  up  my  mind  to 
stop  them,  for  the  following  unanswerable  reason 
— but  for  the  note-book  I  might  have  attributed  it 
to  my  nervous  condition;  I  should  then  have 
called  it  a  pathological  consequence  of  the  opera- 
tions, and  Lerne  would  have  fooled  me  to  the 
end — fortunately  I  guessed  his  tactics  at  the  first. 

He  had  confided  to  me  that  he  was  thinking 
of  assuming  my  shape,  in  order  to  be  loved  in  my 
place.  His  eagerness  to  save  my  mutilated 
body;  the  method  he  had  explained  in  the  note- 
book, and  the  business  of  the  poplar — all  co- 
ordinated themselves  in  my  mind.  His  fainting- 
fits assumed  all  the  appearance  of  experiments,  in 
which  Lerne,  through  a  sort  of  hypnotism,  flung 
his  soul  into  other  beings. 

So  now  with  his  eye  to  the  keyhole  he  watched 
every  move  I  made,  transfusing  his  ego  into  my 
brain,  using  the  power  which  his  unfinished  dis- 
covery procured  him,  to  put  in  practice  the  most 
astounding  substitution  of  personalities.  I  shall 
be  told  that  this  very  appearance  of  unlikeliness 
ought  to  have  weakened  the  value  of  my  reason- 
ing; but  at  Fonval,  incoherence  being  the  rule,  the 
more  absurd  an  explanation  was,  the  more  likely 
it  was  to  be  the  right  one. 

Ah  I  that  eye  at  the  keyhole.  It  pursued  me 
like  that  of  Jehovah  blasting  Cain  from  the  top 


26o  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

of  its  triangular  peephole !  I  was  never  free  of 
it.  Emma  felt  my  distress,  but  she  was  far  from 
understanding  the  real  cause  of  it. 

Although  I  am  joking  now,  I  had  perceived  my 
danger,  and  my  one  thought  was  how  to  avert  it. 
After  long  deliberation,  I  determined  to  take  the 
only  reasonable  course — one  which  I  should  have 
taken  long  before,  viz.,  departure.  Departure 
with  Emma,  of  course,  for  now  nothing  in  the 
world  would  have  made  me  leave  to  my  uncle 
what  I  had  won. 

But  Emma  was  not  one  of  those  women  whom 
one  can  carry  off  against  her  will.  Would  she 
consent  to  leave  Lerne,  and  the  promised  wealth? 
Assuredly  not  I 

The  poor  girl  did  not  see  this  modernized  form 
of  fairy-tale  going  on  around  her.  The  glories 
to  come  completely  occupied  her  mind.  She  was 
both  silly  and  avaricious.  To  make  her  follow 
me  I  should  have  to  make  her  believe  that  she 
would  not  be  worse  off  by  a  penny,  and  it  was 
only  Lerne  who  could  reassure  her  effectively  on 
that  score. 

So,  what  I  required  was  the  Professor's  con- 
sent I  Certainly  there  could  be  no  question  of 
any  consent  except  of  one  sort;  only  one  wrested 
from  him  by  constant  intimidation  would  serve 
the  purpose. 

I  would  make  play  with  Macbeth's  murder,  and 


EXPERIMENTS!  HALLUCINATIONS!  261 

Klotz's  assassination,  and  my  terrified  uncle 
would  speak  to  Emma  as  I  wanted  him  to,  and  I 
should  carry  her  off,  no  doubt  depriving  Mr. 
Nicolas  Vermont  of  an  inheritance  (very  much 
eaten  into),  and  Mile.  Bourdichet  of  (probably 
quite  chimerical)  splendors. 

My  plan  was  soon  arranged  in  detail. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

DEATH  AND  THE  MASK 

But  this  plan  was  never  carried  out.  Not 
that  I  hesitated  to  put  it  into  action — I  was  al- 
ways determined  upon  it,  and  any  doubt  that  came 
to  me  about  the  existence  of  the  danger  to  be 
avoided,  arose  only  when  all  chance  of  realizing 
my  projects  had  passed. 

As  long  as  they  were  still  possible,  on  the  con- 
trary, I  awaited  with  patience  the  opportunity  of 
accomplishing  them,  and  I  will  even  admit  that 
my  growing  terror  ceaselessly  urged  me  to  have 
done  with  it  all. 

Everywhere  danger  showed  itself  to  my  halluci- 
nated eyes,  and  all  the  more  perfidiously  that 
there  was  often  nothing  to  be  afraid  of. 

It  was  easy  to  see  that  it  was  time  for  me  to 
leave  Fonval  and  I  longed  with  all  my  strength  to 
go,  but  I  had  resolved  to  choose  the  moment  when 
Lerne  should  listen  to  my  proposal  sympa- 
thetically, so  that  thus  I  might  only  use  my  threat 
as  a  last  resource. 

And  the  moment  was  long  in  coming.     The 

discovery  would  not  come  to  birth.     Its  failure 

262 


DEATH  AND  THE  MASK         263 

was  undermining  the  Professor's  health.  His 
fainting-fits — or  rather  his  experiments,  grew 
more  frequent,  and  were  rapidly  weakening  him, 
and  his  temper  suffered  in  consequence. 

Our  walks  were  the  one  thing  which  had  not 
lost  their  power  of  cheering  him  up. 

He  still  kept  singing  "Rum  fil  diim,"  stopping 
ev^ery  ten  yards  to  utter  some  scientific  truth.  But 
the  motor-car,  of  all  things,  exerted  its  magic 
over  the  magician,  so  in  spite  of  the  bad  result 
obtained  in  the  same  conditions  some  months  be- 
fore, I  had  to  make  up  my  mind  to  speak  to  him 
during  the  journey  in  my  80  h.  p.,  and  should  have 
done  so — but  for  the  accident. 

It  took  place  in  the  woods  of  Lourcq,  three 
kilometers  this  side  of  Grey,  as  we  were  coming 
back  to  Fonval  from  a  run  to  Vouziers. 

We  were  climbing  a  slight  hill  at  full  speed. 
My  uncle  was  driving.  I  was  going  over  in  my 
mind  the  speech  which  I  was  going  to  make,  and 
was  repeating  to  myself  for  the  hundredth  time 
the  phrases  which  I  had  prepared  some  time  be- 
fore, while  apprehension  dried  up  my  tongue. 
Ever  since  our  setting-out,  I  had  put  off  the  attack 
on  my  tyrant  from  moment  to  moment — rehears- 
ing the  firm  tone  which  would  intimidate  him. 
Before  each  turn  in  the  road  I  had  said  to  myself, 
*'It  is  there  I  shall  speak,"  but  we  had  passed 


264  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

through  all  the  villages,  and  gone  round  all  the 
turns  In  the  road,  without  my  being  able  to  articu- 
late a  syllable,  and  now  I  had  hardly  ten  minutes 
left! 

Well,  I  should  open  fire  when  we  got  to  the 
top  of  the  incline. 

My  first  phrase  was  ready  at  the  gates  of  my 
memory,  and  was  awaiting  expression,  when  the 
car  lurched  alarmingly  towards  the  right,  then 
towards  the  left,  skidding  on  its  two  side  wheels. 

We  were  going  to  overturn ! 

I  seized  the  wheel,  and  put  on  all  the  brake  I 
could,  with  feet  and  hands.  The  car  gradually 
came  under  control,  again  slackened  its  speed,  and 
stopped  right  at  the  top  of  the  hill. 

Then  I  looked  at  Lerne.  He  was  leaning  out 
of  his  seat,  his  head  nodding  from  side  to  side, 
and  his  eyes  staring  vacantly  behind  his  spectacles. 
One  of  his  arms  was  hanging  down. 

A  fainting-fit!  We  had  had  a  narrow  escape; 
so,  those  fainting  fits  were  really  syncope.  What 
had  I  been  imagining  with  my  silly  ideas? 

However,  my  uncle  was  not  coming  to.  When 
I  took  off  his  mask,  I  saw  that  his  clean-shaven 
face  was  as  pale  as  a  wax  candle.  His  ungloved 
hands  too  looked  as  If  they  were  of  wax.  I  took 
them,  and  being  quite  Ignorant  of  medicine,  I 
slapped  them  vigorously,  as  one  does  to  actresses, 
for  hysterics. 


DEATH  AND  THE  MASK         265 

This  form  of  applause  was  in  the  nature  of 
a  claque  in  the  repose  of  the  countryside — 
sonorous  and  funereal;  it  greeted  the  withdrawal 
of  the  great  charlatan  from  the  stage. 

Frederic  Lerne  had  indeed  ceased  to  live.  I 
perceived  it  from  his  chilled  fingers — from  his 
livid  cheeks,  his  soulless  eye,  and  his  heart,  which 
had  stopped  beating.  The  cardiac  affection  about 
which  I  had  been  so  skeptical,  had  just  put  an  end 
to  his  life,  as  is  the  way  with  those  diseases,  with- 
out any  warning. 

Stupefaction,  and  the  reaction  from  the  narrow 
shave  I  had  just  had,  kept  me  motionless.  So,  in 
a  second,  there  remained  nothing  of  Lerne  except 
food  for  worms,  and  a  name  fit  for  oblivion! 

Nothing!  in  spite  of  my  hatred  for  this  de- 
testable man,  and  my  relief  at  knowing  that  he  no 
longer  had  power  to  harm  me,  I  was  awestruck 
by  the  swift  death  which  had  spirited  away  this 
monster's  intelligence. 

Like  a  puppet  deprived  of  the  hand  that  gave  it 
life,  and  prostrate  on  the  edge  of  the  stage, 
Lerne  lay  stretched  out,  limp,  his  arm  hanging 
down,  and  his  funereal  Pierrot's  face  made  whiter 
by  Death. 

And  yet,  as  the  spirit  departed  from'it  into  the 
Unknown,  the  dead  body  of  my  uncle  seemed  to 
me  to  grow  more  beautiful.  The  soul  is  so 
praised  in  comparison  with  the  flesh,  that  one  is 


266  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

astonished  at  seeing  the  latter  become  beautiful  at 
the  departure  of  the  former.  I  followed  the 
progress  of  the  phenomenon  on  Lerne's  features. 
The  Great  Mystery  shed  the  light  of  a  divine 
serenity  over  his  brow,  as  if  life  were  a  cloud 
whose  passing  reveals  some  strange  sun ;  and  thus 
whilst  the  countenance  took  on  the  hue  of  white 
marble,  the  puppet  became  a  statue. 

Tears  dimmed  my  eyes.  I  took  off  my  hat. 
If  my  uncle  had  perished  fifteen  years  before,  in 
the  fullness  of  happiness  and  wisdom,  that  Lerne 
of  long  ago  could  not  have  been  more  beautiful 
to  see. 

But  I  could  not  go  on  dreaming  in  this  way, 
keeping  up  a  conversation  with  a  corpse  on  a  fre- 
quented road.  So  I  raised  him  in  my  arms 
calmly,  deliberately,  and  placed  him  on  my  left; 
a  strap  from  the  grid  fixed  him  firmly  in  the  seat. 
With.his  gloves  on  his  hands  again,  his  cap  pulled 
down  over  his  eyes,  his  spectacles  on  his  nose,  he 
seemed  as  if  asleep. 

We  set  off  side  by  side. 

Nobody  at  Grey  noted  the  stiffness  of  my  neigh- 
bor, and  I  was  able  to  take  him  back  to  Fonval, 
with  veneration  in  my  heart  for  the  dead  man,  and 
full  of  pity  for  this  old  lover  who  had  suffered 
so  much.  I  forgot  the  offenses  in  the  presence  of 
the  offender's  death.     He  filled  me  with  a  pro- 


DEATH  AND  THE  MASK         267 

found  respect,  I  must  also  say,  with  an  invincible 
repugnance,  which  kept  me  from  him  in  the  depths 
of  my  seat. 

Since  our  meeting  in  the  middle  of  the  labyrinth 
on  the  morning  of  my  arrival,  I  had  not  addressed 
a  word  to  the  Germans.  I  went  to  seek  them  in 
the  laboratory,  leaving  the  car  and  its  sepulchral 
chauffeur  in  front  of  the  hall  door  in  charge  of 
the  servant. 

The  assistants  understood  at  once,  by  my  ges- 
ticulations, that  something  extraordinary  had  hap- 
pened, and  followed  me.  They  had  that  anxious 
look  of  criminals  who  foresee  disaster  in  every 
trifle.  When  they  were  certain  what  had  befallen 
them,  the  three  accomplices  could  not  hide  their 
dismay  and  anxiety.  They  talked  together  ex- 
citedly. Johann  was  domineering:  the  two 
others  became  obsequious.  I  awaited  their 
pleasure. 

At  last  they  helped  me  to  carry  the  Professor's 
body  up  to  his  room,  and  on  to  the  bod. 

Emma  saw  us,  gave  a  cry  and  fled,  while  the 
Germans  made  off  without  more  ado. 

Barbe  came,  and  I  left  her  with  my  uncle.  The 
stout  serving-woman  wept  a  few  tears,  paying  a 
tribute  to  Death  as  a  thing  in  Itself,  and  not  to 
the  shade  of  her  master. 

She  looked  at  him  from  the  top  of  her  bulky 


268  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

person.  Lerne  was  changing.  The  nose  became 
pinched — the  nails  became  blue. 

"You  will  have  to  lay  out  the  body,"  I  said 
suddenly. 

"Leave  that  to  me,"  replied  Barbe.  "It  is  not 
a  cheerful  business,  but  I  know  all  about  it." 

I  turned  my  back  on  her  and  her  preparations. 
Barbe  possessed  the  knowledge  of  the  peasant 
women,  who  are  all,  more  or  less,  midwives  and 
undertakers. 

She  soon  came  and  announced  to  me,  "It  is 
all  done,  properly  now.  Nothing  is  wanting  ex- 
cept Holy  Water  and  the  decorations,  which  I 
can't  find." 

Lerne  was  so  white  on  his  white  bed,  that  they 
mingled  together,  and  resembled  an  alabaster 
sarcophagus,  with  its  effigy  on  it,  and  both  hewn 
from  the  same  block  of  marble.  My  uncle,  with 
his  hair  carefully  parted,  had  been  clothed  in 
a  frilled  shirt,  and  a  white  tie.  His  pale  hands 
were  clasped  together,  and  held  a  rosary.  A 
crucifix  showed  like  a  star  on  his  breast.  His 
knees  and  feet  stood  out  under  the  sheets  like 
sharp  snowy  hills,  very  far  away. 

On  the  night-table,  behind  the  bowl,  in  which 
there  was  no  Holy  Water,  and  in  which  lay  useless 
a  sprinkler  of  withered  boxwood,  two  candles 
were  burning. 

Barbe  had  turned  this  piece  of  furniture  into  a' 


DEATH  AND  THE  MASK         269 

sort  of  altar,  and  I  scolded  her  sharply  for  this 
piece  of  absurdity.  She  replied  that  that  was  the 
"custom,"  and  then  shut  the  shutters. 

Shadows  sank  into  the  face  of  the  dead  man, 
thus  anticipating  the  sequel,  and  creating  a  prema- 
ture livor. 

"Open  the  window  wide,"  I  said,  "let  the  day- 
light in,  and  the  songs  of  the  birds,  and  the  scents 
of  the  garden." 

The  servant  obeyed  me,  although  it  was  against 
the  "custom";  then,  when  she  had  received  her  in- 
structions from  me  for  the  necessary  ceremonies, 
she  left  me  at  my  wish. 

From  the  park  there  came  the  powerful  aroma 
of  dead  leaves.  It  is  infinitely  sad!  One 
breathes  it  in,  in  the  way  one  listens  to  a  funeral 
hymn.  Crows  passed  cawing,  as  they  caw  when 
they  fly  in  great  numbers  from  a  steeple.  The 
approach  of  evening  darkened  the  day. 

I  examined  the  room;  for  I  felt  I  must  look 
anywhere  but  at  the  dead. 

Over  the  writing-desk  was  a  drawing  in  chalk, 
which  represented  my  Aunt  Lidivine,  smiling.  It 
is  wrong  to  make  portraits  smile !  They  are 
destined  to  see  too  many  sad  things,  just  as  Lidi- 
vine, in  colors,  having  smiled  to  see  her  husband 
carrying  on  his  illicit  amours,  smiled  again,  in  the 
tragic  presence  of  his  remains. 

The  picture  was  twenty  years  old,  but  the  chalk 


270  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

powder,  which  resembles  the  dust  of  age,  made  it 
look  more  time-worn.  Every  day  made  it  darker. 
It  seemed  to  remove,  far  away  into  the  past  my 
aunt  and  her  own  youth.     It  displeased  me. 

I  endeavored  to  interest  myself  in  other  things 
— in  the  falling  dusk — in  the  early  bats — in  the 
knickknacks  of  the  room — in  the  candles  which 
threw  a  feeble  light  with  their  dancing  flames. 

The  wind  rose,  and  took  off  my  attention  for 
the  moment.  It  streamed  moaning  through  the 
leafage,  and  as  one  heard  it  groaning  in  the  chim- 
ney, one  fancied  one  could  hear  the  passage  of 
Time.  With  a  sudden  stronger  gust,  it  put  out 
a  candle.  The  other  flickered,  and  I  shut  the 
window  quickly. 

Suddenly,  I  was  sincere  with  myself,  and  no 
longer  sought  to  be  my  own  dupe.  I  required  to 
look  at  the  dead  man,  to  keep  an  eye  on  his  seem- 
ing powerlessness;  then  I  lit  the  lamp  and  placed 
Lerne  in  a  flood  ofjlight. 

Really,  he  was  handsome — very  handsome ! 
Nothing  remained  of  the  grim  physiognomy  which 
I  had  encountered,  after  fifteen  years  of  absence 
— nothing!  except,  perhaps,  a  certain  irony  on  the 
mouth — the  shade  of  a  grin. 

Had  my  late  uncle  still  some  arriere  pensee? 
Dead,  he  seemed  still  to  be  defying  Nature. 
Dead !  he  who  in  his  lifetime  had  set  his  finger  to 
creation ! 


DEATH  AND  THE  MASK         271 

And  his  work  appeared  to  me  In  alhthe  sublime 
audacity  and  criminal  boldness,  which  made  him 
worthy  of  the  pillory,  as  well  as  of  the  pedestal, 
of  the  rod  of  the  slave  and  of  the  palm  of  the 
victor. 

Of  yore,  I  knew  he  was  worthy  of  honor,  and 
I  would  have  taken  my  oath  that  he  would  never 
have  deserved  dishonor;  but  what  astounding 
chance,  some  five  years  ago,  had  befallen,  which 
had  made  of  him  the  wicked  lord  of  a  castle  who 
murdered  his  guests? 

I  kept  asking  myself  this,  and  meanwhile  the 
shades  of  Klotz  and  Macbeth  seemed  to  be  crying 
out  their  torture  In  the  recesses  of  the  moaning 
chimney. 

The  gust,  turning  to  a  gale,  whistled  at  the 
loosely  fitting  doors.  The  flames  of  the  candles 
became  restless.  The  curtains  rose  and  fell 
again,  with  melancholy  motions.  The  hair  of 
Lerne  was  blowR  about,  white  and  feathery.  The 
storm  disordered  those  hairs,  and  brushed  them 
this  way  and  that,  and  whilst  the  spirit  hand  of 
the  gale  sported  amongst  the  long  hair,  I,  trans- 
fixed with  amazement,  bent  over  the  bed,  looking 
at  something  that  appeared  and  disappeared 
under  the  silvery  locks — a  purple  scar,  zvhich  en- 
circled heme's  head  from  temple  to  temple,  the 
dreadful  semi-crown  which  indicated  the  Circeean 


272  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

operation !  My  uncle  had  been  operated  on  by 
whom?     Otto  Klotz,  of  course! 

Light  had  penetrated  the  mystery.  Its  last 
veil,  a  winding-sheet,  had  been  torn.  All  was  ex- 
plained now — all !  The  sudden  metamorphosis 
of  the  Professor,  coinciding  with  the  disappear- 
ance of  the  principal  assistant,  with  Macbeth's 
journey,  and  the  eclipse  of  Lerne;  all!  The 
brutal  letters,  the  changed  handwriting — my 
failure  to  recognize  him;  the  German  accent,  his 
failures  of  memory,  and  also  the  violent  temper 
of  Klotz — his  rashness,  and  passion  for  Emma, 
and  then  his  wicked  activities  and  the  crimes  com- 
mitted on  Macbeth  and  on  me ! 

All!    All!!    All!!! 

Calling  to  mind  Emma's  account,  I  was  able  to 
reconstitute  the  history  of  an  unimaginable  crime. 

Four  years  before  my  return  to  Fonval,  Lerne 
and  Otto  Klotz  returned  from  Nanthel,  where 
they  had  passed  the  day.  Lerne  was  probably  in 
a  happy  mood.  He  was  going  once  more  to  take 
up  his  noble  studies  in  grafting,  whose  only  aim 
was  to  relieve  humanity.  But  Klotz,  being  in 
love  with  Emma,  was  hoping  to  divert  those  ef- 
forts to  another  object — one  of  profit — one  of 
lucre — the  exchange  of  brains :  doubtless  this  very 
idea  (which  he  was  not  able  to  carry  out  at  Man- 
heim  for  want  of  money),  he  had  already  pro- 
posed to  my  uncle,  and  without  any  result. 


DEATH  AND  THE  MASK         273 

But  the  assistant  had  his  own  Macchiavelian 
idea.  With  the  help  of  his  three  compatriots, 
warned  beforehand,  and  hidden  in  the  thicket,  he 
struck  down  the  Professor,  gagged  him,  and  shut 
him  up  in  tlie  laboratory — this  man,  whose  wealth 
and  independence — in  other  words,  whose  person- 
ality— he  invaded. 

The  next  day,  before  dawn,  he  went  back  to  the 
laboratory,  where  Lerne,  who  was  being  watched, 
awaited  him. 

His  three  accomplices  administered  anesthetics 
to  both,  and  placed  the  brain  of  Klotz  in  my 
uncle's  skull. 

As  for  the  brain  of  Lerne,  they  no  doubt  con- 
tented themselves  with  placing  it  as  best  they 
might  in  the  skull  of  Klotz,  who  was  now  only  a 
dead  body,  and  they  buried  it  all  In  haste  with  the 
other  debris. 

So  there  is  Otto  Klotz  behind  the  mask,  clothed 
in  the  appearance  he  desired,  dressed  like  Lerne, 
master  of  Fonval,  of  Emma  and  the  laboratory — 
a  sort  of  monk  of  St,  Bernard  sheltered  in  the 
shell  of  the  being  whom  he  killed. 

Emma  saw  him  come  out  of  the  laboratory. 
He  entered  the  chateau,  pale  and  trembling,  upset 
the  usual  habits  and  customs,  made  the  criss-cross 
roads  of  the  labyrinth,  and  then,  sure  of  impunity, 
began  his  terrible  experiments. 


274  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

Fortunately  the  body-snatcher  had  died  too 
soon,  without  reaping  the  reward  of  a  robbery  of 
which  he  was  now  the  victim,  since  the  heart- 
disease  which  had  just  carried  off  the  spirit  of 
Klotz,  belonged  really  to  the  body  of  Lerne. 

In  this  manner  is  the  burglar  in  a  house  pun- 
ished when  the  roof  falls  in  upon  him. 

I  now  understand  why  that  mask  had  resumed 
the  real  expression  of  my  uncle.  The  soul  of  the 
German  no  longer  inhabited  it,  to  give  it  Klotz's 
expression. 

Klotz  the  murderer  of  Lerne,  and  not  Lerne 
the  assassin  of  Klotz !     I  could  not  get  over  it. 

That  is  a  confidence  which  the  double  person 
had  forgotten  to  make  to  me,  and  vexed  at  having 
been  his  dupe  so  long,  I  said  to  myself,  that,  had 
I  been  living  alone  with  him,  I  should  probably 
have  discovered  his  imposture,  but  that  the  society 
of  people  as  easily  deceived  as  Emma  was,  or  ac- 
complices like  the  assistants,  whether  duped  them- 
selves or  trying  to  dupe  me,  had  dragged  me  into 
this  delusion. 

Ah !  Aunt  Lidivine,  thouglit  I,  you  were  right 
to  smile  with  your  lips  of  chalk.  Your  Frederic 
fell  into  a  villainous  trap  five  years  ago,  and  the 
mind  which  has  just  quitted  that  form,  is  not  his. 
Nothing  alien  any  longer  remains  in  it,  except  a 
deserted  brain — a  carnal  globe  as  uninteresting  as 
the  liver.     So  it  is  your  husband  whom  we  are 


DEATH  AND  THE  MASK         275 

watching;  It  is  the  other  who  has  just  died,  and 
paid  his  debt. 

At  this  idea  I  sobbed  heart-broken,  in  the  pres- 
ence of  the  strange  corpse,  but  the  sardonic  grin, 
left  at  the  time  of  its  flight  by  the  evil  soul  like  a 
stamp,  still  checked  my  emotions. 

I  effaced  it  with  the  tip  of  my  finger,  forming 
the  mouth,  which  was  now  stiff,  and  hardly  malle- 
able into  the  shape  I  wanted. 

At  the  moment,  when  I  was  stepping  back,  the 
better  to  judge  of  the  effect,  there  was  a  gentle 
scratching  at  the  door. 

"It'sl,  Nicolas,  I,  Emma!" 

Poor  simple  girll  Should  I  tell  her  the  truth? 
How  would  she  take  such  a  strange  turn  of 
destiny?  I  knew  her;  having  been  many  times 
fooled,  she  would  have  reproached  me  with  trying 
to  mystify  her,  so  I  held  my  peace. 

"Take  a  rest,"  said  she,  in  a  low  tone.  "Barbe 
will  take  your  place." 

"No,  no,"  said  I,  "let  me  be." 

I  felt  I  must  keep  this  vigil  by  the  side  of  my 
dead  uncle  to  the  end.  I  had  accused  him  of  too 
many  crimes,  and  I  felt  the  need  of  asking  forgive- 
ness of  his  memory,  and  of  that  of  my  aunt;  and 
that  is  why,  despite  the  wild  fury  of  the  storm,  we 
conversed  all  night  long — the  dead  man,  the  chalk 
drawing  and  myself. 


276  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

After  Barbe  had  come  at  dawn,  I  went  out  into 
the  cool  of  the  morning,  which  soothes  the  skin 
and  allays  the  fever  of  a  long  night  of  watching. 

The  park  in  autumn  exhaled  an  odor  of  decay 
as  of  a  cemetery.  The  great  wind  in  the  night 
had  piled  up  all  the  leaves  and  my  steps  rustled 
in  the  thick  bed.  Only  one  or  two  could  be  seen 
here  and  there  on  the  skeleton  trees,  and  I  could 
scarce  tell  whether  they  were  leaves  or  sparrows. 

In  a  few  hours  the  park  had  prepared  itself 
for  winter.  What  was  going  to  become  of  the 
marvelous  hothouse,  at  the  coming  of  frost? 
Perhaps  I  should  be  able  to  get  into  it  by  reason 
of  that  death  which  had  flung  the  Germans  off 
their  guard. 

I  made  my  way  obliquely  in  its  direction,  but 
what  I  saw  from  a  distance  made  me  quicken 
my  steps. 

The  door  of  the  hothouse  was  open,  and  smoke 
escaped  from  it — acrid  and  foul — and  also  made 
its  way  through  the  openings  in  the  glass. 

I  went  in. 

The  Rotunda,  the  Aquarium  and  the  third  hall, 
were  a  picture  of  confusion.  They  had  pillaged, 
broken  and  burned  everything.  Heaps  of  filth 
were  accumulated  in  the  middle  of  the  three  halls. 
I  there  found  jumbled  together,  broken  plants, 
shattered  pots,  bits  of  glass  and  sea  anemones, 
flowers  defiled,  close  to  dead  beasts. 


DEATH  AND  THE  MASK         277 

In  short, — three  disgusting  rubbish  heaps, 
wherein  the  triple  palace  beheld  the  end  of  its 
pleasant,  moving,  or  repulsive  marvels.  Some 
rags  were  still  burning  in  a  corner.  In  another, 
a  heap  of  branches — the  most  compromising  ones 
— were  just  hissing  embers. 

No  doubt  the  assistants  had  worked  feverishly 
at  this  task  of  destruction,  in  order  that  no  vestige 
of  their  labors  should  remain,  and  the  storm  alone 
had  prevented  me  from  hearing  them,  but  it  was 
not  likely  they  had  stopped  short  there  in  their 
congenial  task. 

To  make  sure  of  that,  I  examined  the  shambles 
near  the  cliff.  In  that  gaping  ditch  there  was 
nothing  but  bones  and  carcasses  of  unimportant 
animals,  some  without  a  skull,  others  without  a 
head.  Klotz  was  no  longer  there.  Nell  was  not 
there. 

The  sack  of  the  laboratory  gave  me  the  impres- 
sion of  a  masterpiece.  It  proved  the  innate  ca- 
pacity of  men  in  general,  and  certain  nations  in 
particular,  for  this  sort  of  diversion. 

I  ransacked  the  house  at  will;  all  the  doors 
banging  and  clashing  as  the  wind  caught  them. 

In  the  courtyard  there  only  remained  living 
animals  which  had  not  yet  undergone  any  treat- 
ment. I  did  not  discover  the  others  till  later  on, 
so  here  there  was  nothing  destroyed.  The  oper- 
ating rooms,  on  the  other  hand,  disclosed  an  in- 


278  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

describable  chaos  of  broken  bottles,  the  mingled 
contents  of  which  flooded  the  tiles  with  a  pool  of 
chemicals.  A  jumble  of  books,  notes  and  note- 
books, was  spread  over  the  holocaust  of  twisted 
implements. 

Lastly,  most  of  the  surgical  instruments  had 
been  stolen.  The  villains  had  fled  with  the  secret 
of  the  Circeean  operation,  and  the  implements 
needed  for  performing  it.  The  building  where 
they  had  lived,  indeed,  with  its  chests  and  cup- 
boards emptied,  its  furniture  upside-down,  proved 
the  flight  of  the  three  associates. 


CHAPTER  XV 

THE  NEW  BEAST 

Under  the  influence  of  an  indifference  most 
praiseworthy,  in  these  unfortunate  circumstances, 
the  official  doctor  asked  no  questions,  examined 
nothing.  I  told  him  how  my  late  uncle  had  died 
of  syncope.  He  had  heard  about  his  heart- 
disease,  and  this  official  doctor  gave  me  the  Burial 
Certificate. 

"Dr.  Lerne  is  dead,"  said  he,  "and  our  mission 
to-day  will  stop  at  that,  if  you  please.  For  the 
rest,  it  is  not  our  business  to  set  investigations  on 
foot  which  might  bring  us  to  contradict  so  eminent 
a  master,  and  make  him  die  otherwise  than  he 
desired." 

The  funeral  took  place  at  Grey-l'Abbaye,  with- 
out any  pomp  or  spectators,  after  which  I  em- 
ployed ten  days  in  unraveling  the  affairs  of  this 
inconceivable  duality;  this  unparalleled  amalgam 
of  assassin  and  victim:     Klotz-Lerne. 

During  the  course  of  his  "phenomenal"  exist- 
ence, that  is  to  say  the  last  four  and  a  half  years 
or  so,  he  had  made  no  testamentary  dispositions. 
This  was  to  me  the  proof  that  in  spite  of  his  fore- 

279 


28o  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

bodlngs  of  his  end,  death  had  overtaken  him  un- 
expectedly, for  no  doubt  had  it  been  otherwise,  he 
would  have  done  everything  to  disinherit  me. 

I  found  in  his  desk,  at  the  bottom  of  the  secret 
drawer,  my  uncle's  Will,  as  the  letter  of  long  ago 
had  told  me  I  should.  It  appointed  me  his 
residuary  legatee. 

But  KIotz-Lerne  had  charged  the  estate  with  a 
super-abundance  of  mortgages,  and  contracted 
numberless  debts. 

My  first  thought  was  to  appeal  to  the  Courts, 
and  then  the  absurdity  of  the  case  struck  me,  and 
I  perceived  all  the  confusion,  which  such  a  substi- 
tution of  persons  could  cause  to  legal  minds — 
those  frauds  of  a  kind  not  provided  against  by  the 
Code,  those  false  pretenses  and  all  this  legacy- 
hunting,  which  were  a  defiance  of  nature  and  law 
alike. 

I  had  to  resign  myself  to  all  the  consequences 
of  an  astounding  imposture,  and  not  say  a  word 
about  it,  for  fear  of  arousing  the  worst  suspicions. 

Everything  considered,  however,  the  acceptance 
of  the  succession  still  brought  m^e  some  profit,  and 
whatever  happened,  I  was  resolved  to  get  rid  of 
Fonval,  judging  that  it  would,  henceforward,  be 
for  me  but  a  nest  of  evil  memories. 

I  went  through  all  the  papers.  Those  of  the 
real  Lerne,  confirmed  his  medical  honor,  and  the 
legitimacy  of  his  researches  in  grafting  In  every 


THE  NEW  BEAST  28 1 

line.  Those  of  KIotz-Lerne,  usually  recognizable 
by  the  illustrations  in  the  manuscript,  and  often 
blackened  with  German  Gothic  characters,  were 
carefully  examined,  and  were  reduced  to  ashes, 
for  they  were  irrefutable  witnesses  of  several 
crimes,  and  contained  nothing  to  refute  the  pre- 
sumption that  a  certain  Nicolas  Vermont,  who 
had  been  present  at  Fonval  for  six  months,  had 
been  a  partner  in  them. 

Under  the  influence  of  this  same  dread,  I  ran- 
sacked the  park  and  outhouses. 

That  done,  I  presented  the  animals  to  the  vil- 
lagers, and  dismissed  Barbe. 

Then  I  summoned  help.  We  filled  trunks  and 
cases  with  family  treasures,  whilst  Emma  packed 
her  boxes — half  annoyed  at  the  loss  of  her  day- 
dream, and  half  pleased  to  follow  me  to  Paris. 

After  the  death  of  Klotz-Lerne,  eager  to  take 
my  place  again  in  the  world,  and  to  enjoy  once 
more  the  comforts  of  wealth,  without  passing 
through  the  worries  of  too  small  a  house,  I  had 
written  to  one  of  my  friends,  asking  him  to  take 
a  flat  for  me,  a  little  larger  than  my  bachelor 
rooms,  and  suitable  for  a  couple  of  lovers.  His 
answer  delighted  us.  He  had  found  out  a  home 
for  us  in  the  Avenue  Victor  Hugo — a  little  house 
built  as  if  to  our  measure,  and  furnished  exactly 
to  our  taste.  Servants,  recruited  by  his  good  of- 
fices, awaited  us. 


282  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

All  was  ready.  I  sent  off  a  mountain  of  parcels 
belonging  to  Emma  along  with  her  trunks. 

One  morning  Maitre  Pallud,  the  Notary  of 
Grey,  had  a  final  interview  with  me  with  regard  to 
the  sale  of  the  property.  Emma  could  not  keep 
still.  We  fixed  that  very  evening  for  our  de- 
parture in  the  car,  intending  to  sleep  at  Nanthel, 
in  order  to  be  in  Paris  the  next  day. 

And  the  hour  came  for  departing  from  Fonval 
for  ever.  I  went  over  the  chateau,  which  was 
empty  of  furniture,  and  the  park,  in  which  there 
was  no  leafage.  It  looked  as  if  the  autumn  had 
stripped  them  both. 

The  old  perfumes  still  clung  to  the  abandoned 
rooms,  recalling  sad  memories.  Ah  !  what  charm 
there  sometimes  is  in  musty  things !  One  saw  on 
the  walls  the  indelible  outline  of  pictures  or 
mirrors  now  taken  down,  sideboards  or  chiffon- 
iers that  had  gone,  leaving  behind  patches  that 
looked  new  against  the  faded  paper,  outlines  of 
things  magically  given  by  them  to  the  familiar 
wall,  bright  spots  destined  to  grow  pale,  as  time 
went  on,  just  as  the  memory  of  the  absent. 

Some  of  the  rooms  seemed  made  smaller  by 
being  emptied,  others  larger,  without  any  obvious 
reason. 

1  went  over  the  house  from  garret  to  basement, 
by  the  light  of  the  skylight  and  the  gleams  of  a 
grating.     I  explored  from  attic  to  cellar,  and  I 


THE  NEW  BEAST  283 

did  not  grow  weary  of  wandering  through  this 
scenery  of  my  youth,  like  a  living  being  haunting 
a  phantom  place.  Ah !  my  youth !  It  alone 
dwelt  in  Fonval.  I  felt  that.  In  spite  of  their 
importance,  the  recent  dramas  were  pale  beside  it. 
The  bedrooms  were  duller  than  ever,  and  Dono- 
van's and  Emma's  were  no  longer  anything  but 
my  own  and  my  aunt's. 

Was  I  not  right  to  have  put  up  Fonval  to 
auction? 

This  double  feeling  accompanied  me  in  my 
farewells  to  the  park.  The  paddock  became  a 
lawn,  and  the  summerhouse  of  the  Minotaur  only 
recalled  Briareus  to  me. 

I  made  a  circuit  to  the  cliff.  The  clouds  were 
so  low  that  one  would  have  said  it  was  a  ceiling 
of  gray  wool,  laid  over  a  circular  crater. 

Under  this  subdued  light,  which  is  that  of 
winter,  the  statues,  now  bereft  of  their  green 
togas,  showed  their  concrete,  weather-beaten  and 
rain  stained,  with  their  noses  knocked  off,  or  their 
chins  broken;  some  of  them  were  crumbling  to 
bits — one  with  a  Bacchante's  gesture,  was  stretch- 
ing out  her  arm,  the  hand  of  which,  carrying  a 
mixing-bowl,  only  stuck  to  the  wrist  by  its  iron 
bone,  which  was  dreadful  to  see.  They  were 
going  to  continue  their  poses  in  solitude. 

Something  wild  and  savage  was  already  begin- 
ning to  emerge,  but  no  more  than  was  vaguely 


284  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

perceptible.  A  hawk  was  sharpening  his  beak  on 
the  weather-cock  of  the  summerhouse.  A  weasel 
crossed  the  paddock  with  little  quiet  jumps. 

Unable  to  make  up  my  mind  to  depart,  I  un- 
locked the  door  of  the  chateau  again,  then  I  came 
back  to  the  park.  I  heard  my  movements  re- 
sounding on  the  flooring  of  the  corridors  and  rus- 
tling amongst  the  leaves  of  the  alleys. 

The  silence  was  deepening  every  moment.  I 
felt  a  certain  difficulty  in  breaking  it.  It  knew 
well  it  was  going  to  reign  as  a  master,  and  as  I 
paused  in  the  midst  of  the  domain,  it  put  forth  Its 
almighty  power. 

There  I  dreamt  a  long  time — I,  the  human  cen- 
ter of  the  enormous  amphitheater,  the  center, 
also,  of  a  Walpurgis  dance  of  thoughts.  To  my 
call  there  came  in  a  whirlwind,  the  faces  of  long 
ago  and  yesterday — imaginary  or  real — person- 
ages of  fairy  tales,  or  truth;  they  whirled  round 
me  in  a  wild  crowd,  and  made  of  all  the  deep 
valley  a  maelstrom  of  remembrance,  in  which  the 
whole  past  turned  and  turned  again. 

But  I  had  to  go  away  at  last,  and  leave  Fonval 
to  the  ivy  and  the  spiders. 

In  front  of  the  coach-house,  Emma  ready 
dressed  for  her  journey,  was  Impatiently  mounting 
guard. 

I    opened   the   door.     The   car   was    standing 


THE  NEW  BEAST  285 

askew  at  the  end  of  the  old  shed.  I  had  not  seen 
it  again  since  the  accident,  and  I  did  not  even  re- 
member having  housed  it.  The  assistants,  no 
doubt,  through  some  tardy  act  of  courtesy,  had 
got  it  in  somehow. 

Heedless  of  my  negligence,  the  engine  roared 
admirably,  the  moment  the  electric  contact  was 
made,  so  I  brought  out  the  car  as  far  as  the  semi- 
circular terrace,  and  shut  on  so  many  memories  a 
symbolical  portal,  which  closed  with  a  sound  like 
a  sob. 

Thank  Heaven!  No  more  of  the  awful  busi- 
ness of  Klotz,  but  no  more,  also,  of  my  youthful 
years.  Then  it  occurred  to  me  that  by  keeping 
Fonval  I  might  prolong  them. 

"We  shall  stop  at  Grey,  at  the  Notary's,"  I 
said  to  Emma.  "I  am  not  going  to  sell,  I  am 
going  to  let  it." 

I  plunged  on  the  straight  road;  the  rocky  walls 
seemed  to  straighten  themselves.  Emma  was 
prattling. 

At  first  the  car  hummed  cheerfully.  How- 
ever, I  was  not  slow  in  repenting  that  I  had  paid 
so  little  attention  to  it.  With  a  sudden  jerk  it 
slowed  down;  then  several  more,  and  its  progress 
was  soon  no  more  than  a  succession  of  abrupt 
jumps. 

I  have  said,  with  regard  to  this  car,  that  it  was 
the  perfection  of  automatism — pedals  and  handles 


286  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

reduced  to  the  minimum.  Such  a  machine  pre- 
sents only  one  drawback.  It  must  be  perfectly  in 
order  before  setting  out,  for  once  en  route,  one 
has  no  more  influence  on  it,  except  to  quicken  the 
pace,  or  to  moderate  it,  but  not  to  fortify  it  by 
dosing  and  repairs. 

The  prospect  of  a  halt  spoiled  my  good  humor. 

Meanwhile,  the  car  pursued  its  jumpy  course, 
and  I  could  not  prevent  myself  laughing. 

This  manner  of  advancing  recalled  to  me,  in  a 
comical  way,  the  walks  I  had  taken  in  this  very 
place,  with  Klotz-Lerne,  and  the  capricious  way 
in  which  my  sham  uncle  would  stop,  and  then  set 
off  again. 

Hoping  that  it  was  merely  a  passing  indisposi- 
tion of  the  machine, — too  much  oil,  for  example, 
— I  let  the  engine  run  on,  and  endeavored  to  find 
out  by  the  noise  it  made,  which  of  its  functions 
was  defective,  and  every  now  and  again  caused 
those  inequalities  of  power  transmission,  which 
grew  more  marked  at  every  pause,  and  some  of 
which  were  so  accentuated,  indeed,  that  we  were 
almost  motionless  for  a  second. 

My  absurd  comparison  became  clearer  to  me, 
and  that  amused  me. 

"Just  like  that  blackguardly  Professor,"  I  said 
to  myself.     "It  is  amusing!" 

"What  is  the  matter?"  said  my  fellow-traveler. 
"You  are  not  looking  cheerful," 


THE  NEW  BEAST  287 

"I?     Nonsense  1" 

It  is  a  curious  thing,  but  this  question  had  af- 
fected me.  I  should  have  thought  that  my  face 
was  quite  calm.  What  motive  had  I  not  to  be 
easy  in  my  mind?  I  was  annoyed,  that  was  all. 
I  simply  was  asking  myself  what  organ  was  suf- 
fering in  this  great  body  (as  the  Professor  had 
called  it)  and  not  being  able  to  find  anything,  and 
it  being  about  to  stop  altogether,  I  was  annoyed, 
that  was  all. 

In  vain  I  listened  with  a  carefully  trained  ear 
to  the  explosion,  clickings,  dull-sounding  knocks; 
no  characteristic  sound  revealed  to  me  the  stiffness 
of  valves  or  cranks. 

"I  bet  it  Is  the  clutch  which  has  gone  wrong,"  I 
cried,  "and  yet  the  engine  Is  all  right." 

And  then  Emma  said,  "Oh,  Nicholas,  do  look! 
Should  that  thing  there  move?" 

"Ah!     I  told  you  so.     There,  you  see!" 

She  had  pointed  to  the  clutch-pedal,  which  was 
moving  by  itself,  while  the  jolts  of  the  car  coin- 
cided with  its  motions. 

"That  was  the  trouble." 

Whilst  my  eyes  were  fixed  on  the  pedal,  it  re- 
mained pushed  right  over. 

The  car,  unclutched,  stopped.  I  was  going  to 
get  out  of  it,  when  it  set  off  again  in  a  most  brutal 
way.  The  pedal  had  come  back.  A  certain  un- 
easiness tormented  me;  it  Is  certain  nothing  is  so 


288  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

annoying  as  a  car  that  will  not  work;  but  all  the 
same,  I  do  not  remember  ever  having  been  so 
curiously  affected  by  engine-trouble. 

Suddenly  the  hooter  began  to  yell  of  its  own 
accord.  I  felt  the  insurmountable  need  of  saying 
something  or  other,  but  my  dumbness  redoubled 
my  anxiety. 

"It  is  out  of  order  generally,"  I  said,  endeavor- 
ing to  speak  in  a  casual  tone.  "We  shan't  get 
there  before  night,  my  dear." 

"Would  it  not  be  better  to  repair  it  imme- 
diately?" 

"No,  I  prefer  to  go  on.  When  one  stops  one 
never  knows  when  one  will  be  able  to  set  out 
again.     There  will  always  be  time  to.  .  .  ." 

"Perhaps  it  will  warm  up  again,"  but  the  hooter 
drowned  my  hesitating  voice  with  a  great  clamor, 
and  my  fingers  clutched  hold  of  the  steering-wheel, 
for  when  this  clamor  had  died  down,  it  turned  to 
a  continuous  note  which  took  on  rhythm  and  in- 
flections, and  I  felt  coming  through  this  cadence 
an  air — a  marching  tune  (after  all,  it  was  perhaps 
I  who  made  myself  hear  it). 

This  air  drew  nearer,  so  to  say,  became  more 
defined,  and  after  some  halting  attempts  like 
those  of  a  singer  trying  his  voice,  the  car  reso- 
lutely thundered  out  with  its  copper  throat,  "Rum 
pi  dum,  fil  dum." 


THE  NEW  BEAST  289 

At  the  accent  of  the  German's  songs,  a  horde 
of  suspicions  swooped  on  my  uneasy  mind.  I  had 
an  intuition  that  something  fantastic,  mysterious, 
monstrous,  had  happened.  I  tried  cutting  off  the 
petrol.  The  handle  resisted.  The  brake  re- 
sisted.    A  superior  force  kept  them  immovable. 

Losing  my  head  altogether,  I  let  go  the  steer- 
ing-wheel, and  took  two  arms  to  the  diabolical 
brake.  The  same  result,  but  the  hooter  made  a 
gargling  sound,  and  then  was  silent. 

The  girl  exclaimed  angrily,  "That's  a  funny 
trumpet!" 

As  for  me,  I  had  no  desire  to  laugh.  My  ideas 
began  to  follow  one  another  in  a  giddy  whirl,  and 
my  Reason  refused  to  sanction  my  reasoning. 

This  metallic  car,  from  which  wood,  india  rub- 
ber and  leather  had  been  banished — of  which  no 
fragment  belong  to  matter  at  one  time  alive,  was 
it  not  an  organized  body  which  had  never  lived? 
This  automatic  mechanism — was  it  not  a  body 
capable  of  reflexes,  but  a  body  devoid  of  intelli- 
gence?  Was  it  not  in  fact — according  to  the  note- 
book— a  possible  receptacle  of  a  soul  in  its  total- 
ity,— that  receptacle  which  the  Professor  in  his 
haste  had  declared  to  be  non-existent? 

At  the  moment  of  his  apparent  death,  Klotz- 
Lerne  had  doubtless  indulged  in  an  experiment  on 
the  car,  recalling  that  of  the  poplar  tree,  but  hav- 
ing been  absent-minded  for  some  weeks,  perhaps 


290  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

he  had  not  foreseen  (fatal  want  of  logic),  that  his 
soul  would  slip  entirely  into  that  empty  receptacle, 
and  that  the  "attachment"  being  broken,  his  hu- 
man form  would  be  no  more  than  a  corpse,  into 
which  the  laws  of  his  own  discovery  forbade  him 
to  return.  Or  else,  perhaps,  weary  with  pursuing 
the  fortune  he  could  not  seize,  Klotz-Lerne  had 
acted  of  his  own  free  will,  and  committed  a  sort 
of  suicide,  by  exchanging  the  substance  of  my 
uncle  for  that  of  a  machine. 

But  why  should  he  not  have  wished,  simply  and 
solely,  to  become  the  new  beast,  foretold  by  him 
in  a  moment  of  eccentricity — the  animal  of  the 
future—the  ruler  of  creation,  which  the  re-fitting 
of  its  organs  was  to  make  immortal  and  infinitely 
perfectible,  according  to  his  lunatical  prophecy? 

Once  more,  however  sensible  this  inner  discus- 
sion with  myself  was,  I  would  not  accept  its  con- 
clusions. A  resemblance  in  manner  between  the 
car  and  the  Professor,  a  probable  hallucination  of 
my  sense  of  hearing,  and  possibly  the  way  of 
gripping  the  lever,  should  not  sufiice  to  prove  this 
absurdity.  My  distress  wanted  a  more  decisive 
proof.     It  came  mithout  delay. 

We  were  coming  to  the  edge  of  the  forest,  to 
that  limit  where  the  dead  maniac  invariably 
paused  in  his  walks.  I  understood  that  I  was 
going  to  have  the  question  settled,  and  at  all 
hazards,  I  gave  Emma  warning. 


THE  NEW  BEAST  291 

"Hold  tight;  keep  your  body  back  I" 

In  spite  of  our  precaution,  a  sudden  stop  of  the 
car  threw  us  forward. 

"What's  the  matter?"  said  Emma. 

"Nothing,  do  not  worry." 

Frankly,  I  was  undecided.  What  was  to  be 
done?  To  get  down  would  have  been  perilous. 
Inside  the  Klotz-car  we  were  at  least  out  of  his 
reach,  and  I  did  not  desire  to  be  butted  at  by  him, 
so  I  endeavored  to  get  him  forward. 

As  before,  no  bit  of  him  would  obey  my  orders. 

We  were  in  this  awkward  position,  when  sud- 
denly I  felt  the  steering-wheel  turn  round,  (levers 
and  foot-breaks  working  away)  ;  and  the  car, 
making  a  wide  sweep,  faced  about,  and  began  to 
take  us  back  again  towards  Fonval. 

I  was  luckily  able  to  turn  it  round  again  by  a 
sudden  movement,  but  the  moment  it  was  set  in 
the  right  direction,  it  definitely  manifested  the 
wish  not  to  move  a  wheel  forward. 

At  last  Emma  perceived  that  there  was  some- 
thing unusual  the  matter,  and  she  urged  me  to  get 
down  to  put  this  right,  but  for  some  moments  my 
terror  had  been  changed  into  rage. 

The  hooter  laughed ! 

"He  who  laughs  last,  laughs  loudest,"  I  cried  to 
myself. 

"What  is  the  matter?  What  is  the  matter?" 
said  my  companion. 


292  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

Without  listening  to  her,  I  took  from  the  grid 
a  steel  rod,  which  served  me  as  a  defensive 
weapon,  and  to  the  profound  stupefaction  of 
Emma,  I  hit  the  restive  car  with  it.  Then  there 
was  an  epic  scene ! 

Under  the  formidable  hail  of  blows,  the  heavy 
vehicle  behaved  like  a  restive  horse — plunged, 
kicked  and  bucked.  It  tried  everything  to  fling 
us  out  of  the  saddle. 

"Hold  fast!"  I  said  to  my  companion,  and  I 
laid  on  all  the  harder. 

The  engine  growled;  the  hooter  yelled  with 
pain,  or  bellowed  with  rage.  On  the  sheet-metal 
of  the  hood,  the  blows  rained  thick  and  fast,  and 
the  thrashing  made  the  woods  resound  with  a 
fabulous  noise. 

Suddenly  uttering  a  shrill  scream  like  an  ele- 
phant, the  metallic  mastodon  gave  a  bound,  exe- 
cuted two  or  three  plunges,  and  then  dashed 
forward  with  the  speed  of  lightning. 

A  runaway ! 

I  was  no  longer  master  of  the  situation.  The 
frenzy  of  a  mad  monster  ruled  our  fate.  We 
were  almost  flying.  The  80  h.  p.  car  sped  on 
with  the  rapidity  of  a  falling  body.  We  could  no 
longer  breathe  the  wild  rushing  air.  Sometimes 
the  hooter  gave  a  strident  cry. 

We  flashed  through  Grey-l'Abbaye  like  light- 
ning.    Hens  and  ducks  were  under  our  wheels — 


THE  NEW  BEAST  293 

blood  on  my  glasses.  We  were  going  so  fast  that 
the  brass-plate  of  Maitre  Pallud  gave  me  the 
impression  of  a  golden  streak. 

On  issuing  from  the  village,  the  Route  Na- 
tionale  hedged  us  with  its  plane  trees,  then  the 
long  hill  with  its  slope  formed  an  obstacle  to  our 
speed.  There,  showing  signs  of  weariness,  for 
the  first  time,  the  car  slackened  down,  and  allowed 
itself  to  be  managed. 

I  had  to  thrash  it  often,  to  make  it  bring  us  as 
far  as  Nanthel  where  we  got  in  late,  and  without 
any  hitch.  As  we  passed  over  a  gutter,  however, 
the  copper  mouth  uttered  an  exclamation  of  pain, 
and  I  saw  that  the  jolt  had  just  broken  a  spring 
of  the  off  hind  wheel. 

When  we  got  into  the  courtyard  of  the  Hotel, 
I  tried  to  fasten  a  new  spring  into  the  felloe,  but 
did  not  succeed.  My  attempts  roused  such  a 
noise  from  the  hooter,  that  I  had  to  give  up  try- 
ing to  repair  the  damage;  besides  it  was  not  very 
urgent. 

I  had  resolved  to  finish  the  journey  in  a  train, 
and  to  put  my  recalcitrant  machine  in  the  goods 
station.  The  future  should  decide  about  Its  fate. 
For  the  moment  I  put  It  in  the  garage  amongst 
the  phaetons,  buggies  and  limousines,  but  I  hastily 
withdrew,  knowing  that  behind  me,  the  round  eyes 


294  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

of  its  head-lamps  were  shining  with  a  treacherous 
look. 

As  I  reflected  on  all  the  ins  and  outs  of  this 
astonishing  phenomenon,  and  as  I  moved  away,  a 
phrase  in  a  scientific  article  which  I  had  once  read, 
and  which  had  struck  me,  came  into  my  mind,  and 
I  was  not  a  little  surprised  at  finding  In  those 
words  a  vague  explanation  of  the  marvel,  and  the 
promise  of  happenings  no  less  astonishing. 

"It  is  possible  to  Imagine  that  there  exists  an 
intermediate  link  between  living  creatures  and 
inert  matter,  just  as  there  exist  links  between 
animals  and  vegetables." 

The  Hotel  had  all  the  outward  signs  of  luxuri- 
ous comfort.  A  lift  took  me  up,  and  I  was  taken 
to  our  room. 

My  partner  had  preceded  me.  After  being  a 
prisoner  for  so  long,  she  was  looking  with  a  sort 
of  eagerness  at  the  street,  the  people  moving 
about,  and  the  shops,  whose  glories  were  being 
lit  up. 

Emma  could  not  tear  herself  away  from  the 
spectacle  of  life,  and  as  she  dressed,  she  turned 
continually  to  the  window,  drawing  aside  the  cur- 
tains to  behold  the  spectacle  again. 

I  thought  I  perceived  that  she  was  less  affec- 
tionate towards  me. 

My  strange  conduct  in  the  car  had  not  failed  to 


THE  NEW  BEAST  295 

surprise  her.  As  I  had  made  up  my  mind  not  to 
give  any  explanation,  I  had  no  doubt  that  she  re- 
garded me  as  a  lunatic,  hardly  cured  of  his 
madness. 

At  dinner,  which  we  took  at  little  private  tables 
lit  up  by  candles,  whose  soft  light  was  that  of  a 
boudoir,  Emma,  surrounded  by  men  in  evening 
dress,  and  women  in  low-necked  frocks,  made  her- 
self conspicuous  by  her  aggressive  behavior  which 
was  quite  out  of  place.  She  ogled  the  men,  and 
looked  with  a  sneer  at  the  women — sometimes  ad- 
miring and  sometimes  contemptuous — speaking 
her  approval  in  a  loud  voice,  and  laughing  ostenta- 
tiously— which  caused  amusement  and  astonish- 
ment all  round  us — in  the  most  ridiculous  and 
delicious  manner. 

She  wanted  to  jabber  with  everybody  there. 

I  carried  her  off  as  soon  as  I  could,  but  her 
desire  to  get  back  to  the  life  of  the  world  was  so 
ardent,  that  we  had  to  go  immediately  to  some 
place  of  public  entertainment. 

The  theater  was  shut,  and  only  the  Casino  was 
open,  and  that  evening,  the  entertainment  con- 
sisted of  a  wrestling  tournament  organized  in 
imitation  of  Paris. 

The  little  Hall  was  full  of  counter-jumpers, 
students  and  common  folk.  A  cloud  was  floating 
in  it  which  was  a  mixture  of  all  proletarian  and 
lower  middle-class  tobaccos. 


296  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

Emma  spread  herself  In  her  box.  A  vulgar  bit 
of  ragtime  proceeding  from  the  shameless  orches- 
tra plunged  her  into  ecstasy,  and  as  her  ecstasies 
were  not  discreet,  three  hundred  pairs  of  eyes 
turned  round  to  look  at  her,  attracted  by  the  wav- 
ing of  a  fan,  and  the  hat-feathers  which  also 
courageously  beat  time. 

Emma  smiled  and  looked  at  the  three  hundred 
pair  of  eyes. 

The  wrestling  aroused  her  enthusiasm,  and 
more  especially  the  wrestlers.  Those  human 
brutes,  whose  heads — great  jaw,  and  no  brow — 
seem  destined  for  the  sawdust-box  of  the  guillo- 
tine aroused  the  most  unseemly  excitement  in  my 
fair  friend. 

A  hairy,  tattooed  colossus  won.  He  came  to 
make  his  bow,  and  as  he  did  so,  awkwardly 
nodded  a  myrmidon's  head,  with  two  little  pig's 
eyes  surmounting  his  titanic  body. 

He  belonged  to  the  town.  His  fellow-citizens 
gave  him  an  ovation.  He  was  given  the  title  of 
"Bastion  of  Nanthel,"  and  "Champion  of  the 
Ardennes." 

Emma  rose  in  her  seat,  applauding  him  so 
loudly  and  insistently,  that  she  both  scandalized 
and  amused  the  audience. 

The  Champion  threw  her  a  kiss.  I  felt  my  face 
getting  red  with  shame.  We  returned  to  the 
Hotel,  exchanging  bitter  remarks. 


THE  NEW  BEAST  297 

Our  apartment  happened  to  be  above  the  arch 
of  the  main  door,  where  motor-cars  kept  passing 
and  re-passing  until  morning,  which  made  me 
dream  of  misfortunes  and  absurdities.  My 
awakening  brought  me  real  ones.  Emma  was 
gone ! 

In  my  astonishment,  I  endeavored  to  find 
plausible  reasons  for  her  absence. 

I  rang  for  the  waiter.  He  came,  and  handed 
me  this  letter,  which  I  have  preserved,  and  whose 
criss-crossed  paper,  bespattered  with  blots  and 
blobs  of  ink,  I  now  pin  on  to  my  piece  of  white 
paper: 

"Dear  Nick, 

"Pardon  me  for  the  pain  I  am  causing  you,  but  it  is 
better  that  we  should  part.  I  found  again  yesterday,  my 
first  lover  Alcide,  the  man  I  fought  with  Leonie  about. 
He  is  the  handsome  fellow  who  won  the  wrestling-match 
yesterday.  I  am  going  off  with  him.  I  could  not  give  up 
that  kind  of  life,  except  for  the  sort  of  money  which  Lerne 
promised  me.  I  should  have  made  you  unhappy,  and 
should  have  been  unfaithful  to  you.  All  the  rest  amounts 
to  nothing.  I  want  a  real  man.  It  is  not  your  fault,  and 
so  I  hope  this  will  not  cause  you  any  pain.    Adieu  for  life. 

"Emma  Bourdichet." 

In  the  presence  of  so  categorical  an  intimation, 
couched  in  jargon  almost  as  barbarous  as  that  of 
the  Law  Courts,  I  could  only  bow  to  fate.  More- 
over, were  not  those  sentiments  which  Emma  was 


298  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

expressing,  exactly  those  which  had  charmed  me 
in  her?  Had  I  not  loved  in  her  just  that  thirst 
for  pleasure  which  was  the  cause  of  her  bewitch- 
ing beauty,  and  the  cause  of  her  infidelity? 

I  had  the  energy  and  wisdom  to  defer  the  rest 
of  my  reflections  until  the  morrow.  They  might 
have  brought  on  weakness  in  action. 

I  inquired  about  the  first  train  for  Paris,  and 
sent  for  a  mechanic  to  undertake  to  dispatch  my 
80  h.  p.  car,  or,  if  you  prefer  to  call  it,  the  Klotz- 
automobile,  to  me. 

I  was  soon  informed  of  the  man's  arrival. 
Together  we  went  to  the  garage. 

The  car  had  disappeared! 

It  can  easily  be  imagined  that  I  put  the  two 
treasonable  acts  together,  and  accused  Emma  of 
a  secret  complicity. 

But  the  Manager  of  the  Hotel,  thinking  he  had 
to  do  with  audacious  thieves,  went  off  to  the 
police-office.  He  came  back,  saying  that  they  had 
found  in  a  little  street  of  the  faubourg,  a  car  with 
the  number  234XY,  which  had  been  abandoned, 
as  he  thought,  by  thieves,  for  want  of  petrol. 
The  tank  was  empty. 

"Ah!  just  so,"  said  I  to  myself.  Klotz  wanted 
to  run  away.  He  forgot  about  the  exhaustion  of 
the  petrol,  and  there  he  is,  paralyzed. 

I  kept  the  true  version  of  the  incident  to  myself, 


THE  NEW  BEAST  299 

and  advised  the  mechanic  to  push  the  car  to  the 
train,  without  making  the  engine  go. 

"Promise  me  this,"  I  Insisted,  "it  is  very  im- 
portant. My  train  is  due,  I  must  be  off.  Off  you 
go,  and  remember,  no  petrol." 


CHAPTER  XVI 

THE  WIZARD  FINALLY  DIES 

And  now,  here  I  am,  in  this  house  in  the  Ave- 
nue Victor  Hugo,  which  I  had  taken  for  Emma, 
and  I  am  alone  with  my  strange  memories,  since 
she  preferred  to  sacrifice  her  intoxicating  and 
lucrative  beauty  to  M.  Alcide.  Let  us  say  no 
more  about  it ! 

February  is  beginning.  The  fire  is  flaming  be- 
hind me  with  the  flapping  sound  of  a  waving  flag. 

Since  I  came  back  to  Paris,  having  nothing  to 
do,  and  reading  nothing,  I  write  every  evening 
and  every  morning,  at  this  round  table,  the  story 
of  my  singular  adventures. 

Are  they  over  yet? 

The  Klotz-automobile  is  there  in  the  coach- 
house, in  a  box  which  I  have  specially  constructed 
for  it. 

In  spite  of  my  orders,  the  Nanthel  mechanic 
put  in  some  petrol,  and  my  new  chauffeur  and  I 
had  the  greatest  trouble  in  bringing  the  human 
car  here,  for  it  was  impossible  to  turn  the  waste- 
cocks  for  emptying  the  tank. 

It  began  by  destroying  its  successor — a  20  h.  p. 
300 


THE  WIZARD  FINALLY  DIES    301 

machine  of  the  latest  model.  What  could  I  do 
with  this  accursed  Klotz-car?  Sell  it?  Expose 
my  fellow  creatures  to  its  malignity?  That  would 
have  been  a  crime.  Destroy  it  and  so  kill  the 
Professor  in  his  final  transformation?  That 
would  be  murder.     So  I  locked  it  up. 

The  box  has  high  oak  partitions,  and  the  door 
is  heavily  bolted. 

But  the  new  beast  passed  its  nights  in  roaring 
its  threats  and  chromatic  cries  of  pain,  and  the 
neighbors  complained. 

Then  in  my  presence  I  had  the  delinquent 
hooter  taken  to  pieces.  We  had  extraordinary 
difficulty  in  taking  out  the  screws  and  the  bolts, 
and  we  found  that  the  apparatus  was,  so  to  speak, 
soldered  to  the  car.  We  had  to  tear  it  off,  and 
as  it  came  away  the  whole  machine  quivered. 

A  yellowish  liquid,  smelling  like  petrol,  spurted 
from  the  wound,  and  flowed  drop  by  drop  from 
the  amputated  pieces.  I  concluded  from  this  that 
the  metal  had  become  organic  through  the  action 
of  the  infused  life,  hence  my  vain  efforts  to  fix 
the  new  spring  in  the  wheel,  this  operation  being 
a  sort  of  animal  grafting,  as  impracticable  as  the 
transplanting  of  a  wooden  finger  on  to  a  living 
hand. 

Though  deprived  of  power  of  speech,  my 
prisoner  none  the  less  persisted  in  his  nightly  out- 
bursts for  a  week,  dashing  the  battering-ram  of  its 


302  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

mass  against  the  door.  Then  suddenly  it  became 
silent. 

It  was  a  month  ago,  I  think,  that  the  petrol  and 
oil  tanks  were  empty;  but,  I  have  forbidden 
Louis,  my  mechanic,  to  go  and  make  sure,  and 
enter  the  cage  of  that  savage  beast. 

We  have  peace  now,  but  Klotz  is  still  there. 

Louis  has  put  an  end  to  the  philosophical  re- 
marks which  were  ready  to  flow  from  my  pen. 
He  came  in  suddenly,  and  he  said  to  me  with  his 
eyes  starting  from  his  head,  "Monsieur,  monsieur, 
come  and  see  the  80  h.  p.  car." 

I  did  not  wait  to  be  told  more,  but  rushed  out. 

On  the  staircase  the  servant  confessed  to  me 
that  he  had  ventured  to  open  the  door  of  the 
coach-house,  because  for  some  time  a  bad  smell 
had  been  coming  out  of  it.  Indeed  the  stench  of 
the  courtyard  itself  was  sickening. 

Louis  exclaimed  in  a  tone  almost  of  admira- 
tion : 

"That's  it.  A  nice  stink,  isn't  it,  sir?"  and  we 
entered  the  box. 

So  strange  did  the  car  look,  that  at  first  I  could 
hardly  recognize  it. 

Sunk  on  its  deflated  tires,  it  had  lost  its  shape, 
as  if  it  had  been  a  car  of  half-molten  wax.  The 
levers  were  bent  over  like  bars  of  india  rubber. 
The  head  lamps  were  battered  and  out  of  shape, 


THE  WIZARD  FINALLY  DIES    303 

and  their  lenses,  bluish  and  sticky,  were  like  the 
bleared  eyes  of  the  dead. 

I  saw  suspicious  stains,  which  were  eating  into 
the  aluminium,  and  holes  which  were  rusting  the 
iron.  The  steel  had  become  porous,  and  was 
crumbling,  and  the  copper  had  grown  spongy  like 
a  mushroom. 

Lastly,  the  whole  machinery  was  mottled  as 
with  a  red  or  greenish  leprosy  which  was  neither 
rust  nor  verdigris. 

On  the  ground  there  was  a  syrupy  disgusting 
pool  all  round  this  repulsive  heap  of  refuse,  ooz- 
ing from  it  and  all  streaked  with  colors  suggesting 
unimaginable  horrors. 

Strange  chemical  reactions  occurred  from  time 
to  time  which  made  this  putrefying  metallic  flesh 
boil  with  great  bursting  bubbles,  and,  in  its  depths, 
the    mechanism    rumbled    and   gurgled    Intermit-    ^ 
tently. 

Suddenly  in  a  squashy  fall,  the  steering-wheel 
collapsed,  one  end  going  through  the  floor,  and 
the  other  through  the  hood. 

A  nameless  mess  was  stirring  in  there,  and  the 
horrible  stench  of  organic  decomposition  flung  me 
backwards. 

I  had  had  time  to  see  worms  wriggling  about  in 
the  dark  depths. 

"What  a  filthy  machine,"  said  the  mechanic. 

I  tried  to  make  him  swallow  the  idea  that  vibra- 


304  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

tion  sometimes  disintegrates  metal,  and  may  give 
rise  to  molecular  modifications  like  this.  He  did 
not  seem  to  believe  me,  and  I,  who  knew  that  the 
truth  was  stranger  still,  was  forced,  in  order  that 
he  might  grasp  and  accept  it,  to  enlarge  on  the 
subject  and  give  him,  confidentially,  a  careful  ex- 
planation of  the  whole  matter. 

Klotz  is  dead !  The  car  is  dead !  And  so  goes 
to  limbo,  along  with  its  author,  the  beautiful 
theory  of  an  animalized  mechanism  made  immor- 
tal by  the  replacing  of  parts,  and  infinitely 
perfectible ! 

Giving  life  means  also  giving  death,  and  to 
organize  inorganic  bodies,  means  to  sooner  or 
later  disorganize  them. 

But,  to  my  surprise,  it  was  not  for  want  of 
petrol  that  the  fantastic  creature  died.  No,  the 
tank  was  half  full.  It  was  the  soul,  therefore, 
which  killed  it — the  human  soul,  that  corrupt  soul, 
which  so  rapidly  wore  out  the  constitutions  of 
animals,  more  healthy  than  ours,  and  soon  ruined 
this  pure  metaUic  body. 

I  ordered  the  filthy  bundle  of  refuse  to  be  flung 
away.     The  drains  were  to  be  the  tomb  of  Klotz. 

He's  dead!  He's  dead!  I'm  rid  of  him. 
He  is  dead,  and  he  can  never  come  to  life  again. 
In  fact,  he  is  dead!  His  spirit  is  with  the  de- 
ceased. He  can  never  hurt  me  again.  Ah,  ha  I 
DEAD !     The  filthy  brute  I 


THE  WIZARD  FINALLY  DIES    305 

I  ought  to  be  happy,  but  I  am  not  very.  Oh,  it 
is  not  because  of  Emma.  No  doubt  the  "bag- 
gage" causes  me  pain,  but  that  will  soon  be  cured, 
and  to  admit  that  grief  is  consolable,  is  already  to 
be  consoled  from  it.  My  great  trouble  comes 
from  my  recollections.  What  I  have  seen  and 
feltharasses  me. 

The  madman  Nell !  The  operation !  The 
Minotaur!  I — Jupiter!  And  so  many  other 
horrors. 

I  dread  eyeballs  that  stare  at  me,  and  I  lower 
my  eyes  in  the  presence  of  keyholes.  Those  are 
the  sources  of  my  trouble,  but  I  also  dread  the 
horrible  future. 

Suppose  it  were  not  all  finished? 

Suppose  Klotz's  death  did  not  wind  up  my 
story? 

I  do  not  care  about  hhn,  as  he  no  longer  exists; 
even  if  he  should  come  and  haunt  me  in  the  fea- 
tures of  Lerne  or  a  car,  I  should  know  that  he 
was  only  an  hallucination  of  my  weak  eyes. 

He  is  dead,  and  I  do  not  care  a  jot  about  him, 
I  repeat.  It  is  the  three  assistants  who  trouble 
me.  Where  are  they?  What  are  they  doing? 
That  is  the  question.  They  possess  the  Circeean 
formula,  and  must  be  using  it  for  their  own  profit, 
in  order  to  indulge  in  the  traffic  in  personalities. 

In  spite  of  his  rebuffs,  Klotz-Lerne  had  induced 
several  people  to  submit  to  his  malevolent  surgery, 


3o6  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

and  to  exchange  their  souls  for  somebody  else's. 
The  three  Germans  are  daily  adding  to  the  num- 
ber of  those  poor  creatures  who  are  craving  for 
money,  youth  or  health.  There  are  in  the  world, 
unsuspected  men  and  women  who  are  not  them- 
selves. 

I  am  no  longer  certain  of  anything.  Faces 
seem  to  be  masks.  Perhaps  I  might  have  known 
this  sooner.  There  are  certain  people  whose 
physiognomy  reflects  a  soul  the  very  opposite  of 
their  own ;  people  virtuous  and  honest,  who,  for  a 
moment,  give  glimpses  of  unexpected  vices  and 
monstrous  passions,  which  strike  terror  like  a 
miracle.  They  have  to-day  their  soul  of  yester- 
day. 

Sometimes  in  the  eyes  of  the  man  who  speaks 
to  me  there  passes  a  strange  flash — an  idea  which 
does  not  belong  to  him.  He  will  contradict  it 
immediately  after  expressing  it,  and  he  will  be  the 
first  to  be  astonished  that  he  could  have  thought 
of  it. 

I  know  people  whose  opinions  vary  day  by 
day,  and  that  is  very  illogical. 

Lastly,  there  is  often  an  imperious  something, 
which  eludes  me — a  brutal  overmastering  power 
thrusting  me  back  into  myself,  so  to  speak,  and 
commanding  my  nerves  and  muscles — evil  actions 
or  words  I  regret,  a  cufl  or  a  curse. 

I  know,  I  know  I     Everybody  feels  those  un- 


THE  WIZARD  FINALLY  DIES    307 

reflecting  movements,  and  always  has  felt  them, 
but  the  reason  has  become  obscure  and  mysterious 
to  me. 

It  is  called  fever,  anger,  want  of  thought — 
just  as  customs  or  decorum  are  called  calculation, 
hypocrisy  or  diplomacy.  This  is  the  way  people 
account  for  these  sudden  revelations,  which  I 
have  noted  so  often  in  my  fellow-creatures,  and 
which  the  world  says,  can  only  be  failures  to  com- 
ply with  those  great  powers,  or  revolts  against 
them. 

Might  not  the  science  of  a  wizard  be  the  real 
prime  cause? 

Clearly  the  mental  stage  in  which  I  am  is  ex- 
hausting me,  and  requires  treatment.  Now,  it 
is  kept  alive  by  the  obsession  of  the  fateful  time 
I  spent  at  Fonval.  That  is  why,  since  my  return, 
realizing  that  I  must  rid  myself  of  the  remem- 
brance of  it,  I  have  resolved  to  test  myself  by 
telling  the  story — not,  Good  Heavens !  with  any 
ambition  to  write  a  book,  but  in  the  hope  that 
if  one  put  it  down  on  paper,  it  would  get  out  of 
my  head,  and  that  to  put  it  down  would  be  to 
drive  it  away. 

That  is  not  the  case,  far  from  it.  I  have  just 
lived  it  again,  and  with  more  reality  as  I  told  the 
story,  and  some  mysterious  power  or  other  has 
sometimes  forced  me  to  put  in  a  word  or  phrase 
against  my  own  intentions. 


3o8  NEW  BODIES  FOR  OLD 

I  have  failed  in  my  aim.  I  must  try  to  forget 
this  nightmare,  and  suppress  even  trifles  that 
might  make  me  think  of  it. 

I  must  sell  Fonval  and  all  the  furniture.  I  must 
live,  live  in  my  own  personality — however  ridicu- 
lous, foolish  or  extravagant  the  original  may  be — ■ 
independent,  and  without  suggestions,  and  free — 
free  from  memories. 

Those  abominations,  I  swear,  are  now  crossing 
my  brain  for  the  last  time.  I  write  this  down 
to  heighten  the  solemnity  of  my  oath. 

And  you,  you  criminal  manuscript,  you,  who 
would  perpetuate  beings  and  facts  when  I  should 
refuse  to  admit  that  they  have  existed — into  the 
fire  with  you,  "Dr.  Lerne"  ! — 

Into  the  fire  .   .   .    ! 


THE  END 


This  book  is  due  at  the  LOUIS  R.  WILSON  LIBRARY  on  the 
last  date  stamped  under  "Date  Due."  If  not  on  hold  it  may  be 
renewed  by  bringing  it  to  the  library. 

DATE                    PPT, 
DUE                      ?F- 

^^^^                       RFT 
DUE                        **'^^- 

I 

^                  !l 

PR  1  7  ?l 

0: 

, 

t 

Form  No.  513 

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